


Betrayal is Unforgivable

by SandM1827



Series: Son Shine [1]
Category: Sons of Anarchy, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Angst, Canon Divergence, Character Death, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Gen, Humor, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, Past Underage, Sexual Coercion, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:06:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 159,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2387735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandM1827/pseuds/SandM1827
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“It’s time to come home, baby. It’s time to take your rightful place at the table.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Knee Deep in Your Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Currently unbeta'd. 
> 
> This is based off my [Son Shine Verse](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/tagged/Son-Shine-Verse) gif set series.  
> Chapter 1 Sets: [I'm His Family](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/97846597269/son-shine-verse-im-his-family-betrayal-is), [Gemma's In Town](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/97936475389/son-shine-verse-gemmas-in-town-3-chapter-1), [I Promise](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/98211588914/mama-gemma-au-i-promise-5-chapter-1-preview).
> 
> Also, it has a [trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_2lQcGa5oSQ%20).
> 
> I didn't want to spam the tags with a bunch of _mentions of past relationships with so-and-so_ , so I'll just leave those here so you are aware of them: Juice/Stiles (past underage mentioned in the tags), Juice/Chibs (allusions to?), Stiles/Malia, Gemma/Sheriff Stilinski.
> 
> Also: Sheriff's name is John. Since Jax's father is also named John (it's a popular name), but is often referred to as JT in the show, he will be referred to as JT in this story. So John=Sheriff Stilinski, JT=John Teller. 
> 
> TIMELINE: Teen Wolf's timeline is all over the place in canon. If I remember correctly season 3 and 4 are all in the same year, which in canon the pack is juniors. In this they were seniors when all that went down. In SOA this is set during season 7, though some details have changed like a character may show up sooner then they had. Abel is already in school at the beginning of this story while on the show he didn't start until a few episodes into season 7.
> 
> Each chapter title will be a song title or line from a song, which I will list the name and artist of in the summary. Chapter One's happens to be from Former Vandal's song Can't Go Back.

The dusk was settling outside as John settled himself in at his desk, preparing to put a dent in the stack of case files that had been calling his name since the beginning of his shift. He opted to watch the sunset out the window, finding it simpler than opening a file and contemplating which excuse he could write in the proper fields, to explain the latest in the longline of supernatural shitstorm’s to grace his town. It had already been a long day and, at the moment, he didn’t have the brain capacity to come up with a believable lie that would keep his son and friends out of prison. He wanted to go home, have dinner with Stiles, and pass out face first in his bed. The knock on his office door, however, told him he wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon.

“Sheriff, there’s a woman here to see you.” Parrish announced from the newly opened door of his office.

“Who is it?” John asked as he rubbed a hand against his tired eyes.

“She won’t give me her name.” The deputy’s voice was laced with more than a little apprehension.

“She won’t give you her name?” He echoed back to the deputy with a raised eyebrow to complement his confusion.

“She said that you wouldn’t see her if you knew who she was.” That didn’t sound foreboding at all.

“Send her in.” Honestly, he didn’t have time or energy to deal with any visitors right now, but being the sheriff meant he couldn’t turn someone away.

“Hey.” The familiarity of that voice put him on edge the second it sounded through the room.

“Gemma.” Of all the women John Stilinski expected to walk into his office, Gemma Teller Morrow was not one of them.

She had aged since the last time he had seen her, gracefully, but time was still visible on her face. It was clear the years had not been kind to her. With her lifestyle that wasn’t much of a surprise.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” She mused, lowering herself into the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

“What are you doing here?” He knew the answer before she spoke. He knew there was only one reason she would show her face in Beacon Hills.

“I’m here for my son.”

_Her son._

Stiles was never her son. She had treated Stiles like a thing renting space in her uterus throughout her entire pregnancy. After his birth, Stiles had received nothing but cool detachment from her. In fact, she had only claimed him as her son once before, and at the worst possible time, cementing Stiles hate for her forever.

“What do you want with Stiles?” He shuddered to think what she could actually want from his child.

“His family needs him.” John bit back the urge to slam his hands against his desk in frustration at her statement, instead choosing to stand and pace around the room while they had this out.

“I’m his family.” There were very few people that Stiles would call family and Gemma was not one of them.

“I let you have him.” She replied thickly, putting force behind each word, as if it wasn’t a bold-faced lie. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

“Don’t act like it was a hardship to give Stiles up. You gave Stiles to me the minute the paternity results showed that he was mine.” He spit back at her. “We both know Clay is the reason you didn’t fight me on custody. Clay didn’t want to take care of a baby that wasn’t his. You didn’t _let_ me have him. You just wanted Clay more than you wanted another child.”

“Clay’s dead.”

“Yeah, I know.” He was sure it was huge loss for everyone, and that she and the club had absolutely nothing to do with it.

“Now I want…” Her words trailed off but her look told him everything.

“Now you want Stiles back.” As if, he was a possession that could be sold or traded.

“He’s my son.” She said it like it meant something, but Stiles had never meant anything to her before.

“No, he’s my son.” Stiles had, and would always be, his son. By blood and by bond, Stiles was his. “He was Claudia’s son.”

“His brother needs him right now.” Jax. Of course, she would use Jax as an excuse. Jax was the quickest way to get Stiles to Charming.

The bond Stiles and Jax shared was something John had never experienced, even with his own brother. Jax seemed to preen under the attention Stiles gave him; he would stand a little taller when playing his role as big bother. Stiles, in turn, seemed to calm the moment Jax walked into the room, but become sullen for hours when they had to separate.

“Jax knows how to find him. He’s never had any trouble with it before.”

The visits between the brothers had died down over the last few years. With the supernatural dictating Stiles life, it made it hard to just get up and go visit Charming on a whim. John knew life in Charming had gotten increasingly dangerous, and that was before the brutal murder of Jax’s wife. Jax hadn’t felt comfortable with Stiles being in the heart of danger when he could so easily be kept out of it. So they’d kept some distance and met in the middle when they could.

“They are both adults now,” As much as it pained him to think of his boy as an adult. “If they need each other, if they want to see each other, that is their choice, not yours.”

“I guess you’re right.” Gemma admitted half-heartedly, before standing and collecting her purse from off the floor.

“I am.” He tried, and probably failed, to keep the disbelief out of his voice and off his face.

“I’ll just leave you alone then. You look like you have a lot of work to do.” Her eyes darted to the stack of files on his desk. “Best not tell Stiles I was here. We wouldn’t want to upset him.”

“Of course not.” He fought the urge to take a step back when she took a step toward him.

It wasn’t fear that made him want to recoil, it was that god awful perfume she still wore. It sweet and heady, and stuck in his sense memory. One whiff of it sent him back to time when he was a young and stupid deputy, having a drunken one-night stand with his childhood friends older sister. He would like the ability to regret it, but he could never regret the one night that gave him his son.

“You look tired, Johnny.” She brought a hand up to touch his cheek. “You should take it easy. Get some rest. You are the Sheriff of a town that has a high mortality rate. You need to be at the top of your game. It would be a shame if something happened to you. It would devastate Stiles.”

“Don’t threaten me, Gemma.” He wasn’t afraid of Gemma or her threats. He had faced down far more frightening things then her in the past year. Hell, his son had been one of those frightening things. Gemma Teller Morrow had nothing on his kid possessed by a Japanese fox spirit.

“That wasn’t a threat, sweetheart.” She flashed him a wide smile before she sauntered out of his office.

He watched from the window to see her exit the building. By the time she had climbed into her SUV and started the engine he had already texted Stiles to meet him. He didn’t tell him why. Gemma’s presence in what was supposed to be their sanctuary was not the kind of news you broke through a text message.

* * *

 

Gemma drove away from Beacon Hills knowing that soon enough Stiles would be joining her in Charming. All she had to do was plant the seed, the idea, that Jax needed him. _His wife had just been _viciously_ murdered, he was slipping, drowning, he needed someone to keep him afloat. He needed his baby brother. _She knew that would be just enough to pull Stiles in. It wasn’t as if she was lying. Jax did need Stiles. He always had.

Stiles was the puzzle piece Jax had been missing. He fit perfectly in the space left vacant after Thomas’s death. He fit as neatly in Jax’s heart as he had in his arm the first time Jax held him. All brown hair and big eyes, one glance and the veil of grief Jax had been living in had wiped away and been replaced by hope.

Stiles wasn’t born with the same heart condition that Jax and Thomas had come into this world with. There was no chance of it slowly ripping him away like it had done to Thomas. Stiles was healthy and brand new and Jax looked at him like he was his second chance. The bond they shared formed almost instantly. Gemma swore she had seen it wrap around them like a red string of fate.

It was almost heartbreaking to watch that day. By then she had already told John that he could take Stiles and go. She didn’t know that he had seen Jax’s face too, or that he would offer Jax a permanent place in his younger brother’s life.

It was Stiles birth that brought Jax back to her after losing Thomas and JT. It was Stiles, the overly affectionate toddler, that got Jax moving again when Tara left him for college. Sometimes Gemma believed that the only reason Stiles even existed in this world was to bring Jax back to her. He had done it so many times in his short life he could always do it again.

* * *

 

John settled himself on the floor with boxes of unsolved cases after watching Gemma leave. A few were from his time as a deputy, others were from before his time at the department completely. The last time he had done this he was looking for links to the supernatural. This time it was to get out of his head.

Diving head first into cases he may never solve was easier than letting thoughts of Gemma roam through his mind. She had a been a mistake, he knew that, but during the short time they enjoyed each other’s company, he had been young enough not to care about making poor decisions.

He knew she would come to lay claim to Stiles eventually. She had tried once before, when Stiles was little and vulnerable, and the only thing she got in return was his hatred.

John should have known she would use Jax as her excuse to try and take Stiles away. Family was a weakness for both Jax and Stiles. They would both burn the world down if it meant protecting someone they considered theirs. Stiles had died for him and he would do the same in a heartbeat for Jax and his nephews. Jax would return the favor tenfold.

“You only work on old case files when you’re stressed.” Was the first thing out of his son’s mouth when he entered the office.

“Yeah, I know.” He wondered what kind of picture he painted, sitting on the floor surrounded by the past.

“What’s going on, Dad?” Stiles questioned as he crouched down beside him, allowing John to take a good look at him.

If Gemma thought he had looked tired then she would be horrified to see how his son looked. The dark circles were prominent under his eyes, as they had been before, when the Nogitsune had a strong hold on him. His nightmares were back. He had been screaming himself awake since returning from Mexico. This time it wasn’t the Nogitsune taunting him, though, it was visions of Scott, as a berserker, killing his way through Beacon Hills.

Seeing the exhaustion so evident on his sons face made him regret calling him here. He did not want to tell him about Gemma’s visit. He didn’t want Stiles to have to deal with Gemma and the baggage that came with her. He did not want him to go running to Charming to take care of his brother when he was barely taking care of himself.

“Gemma’s in town.” He couldn’t keep that from Stiles, no matter how much he wanted to. He needed to be aware of her before she had the chance to surprise him.

“Why is she here?” The pure venom in Stiles voice told John that, no matter what the answer was, Stiles would not bend to Gemma’s will. “What does she want?”

“She wants to take you back to Charming.” His son’s eyes darkened at the omission. “She thinks Jax needs you.”

“Jax won’t talk to me.” The anger in his voice replaced by tired exasperation.

“Do you know if he’s out?” They knew Jax had been arrested after Tara’s murder. The club kept Stiles informed so he didn’t rush down to Charming himself looking for answers.

“Yeah.” He answered with a sad sigh. “Bobby called two days ago and said Jax had been released.”

“If you need to see him,” He knew Stiles would need to see him. They hadn’t spent this much time apart since Stiles was born. Even when Jax was in prison, he still got visitation. “I won’t stop you.”

“I’m not going anywhere with Gemma. I don’t want to see Gemma.”

Stiles hadn’t minded Gemma as a small child, back when she was just Jax’s mother. When the truth came out, that she his mother as well, that all changed. It was more the way the information found its way into Stiles head, than the information itself, that distorted his image of her. Gemma had damaged Stiles irrevocably, whether she meant to or not, when she had whispered that truth into his ear. She had labeled herself as an enemy in Stiles eyes before he even knew what the word meant.

“You don’t have to go with Gemma.” He was eighteen now. He had traveled out of Beacon Hills several times on his own. He had been taking himself to and from Charming since he had his jeep. “You can go on your own.”

“After what happened with Tara…” Stiles voice seemed to choke off with emotion. He knew how close Stiles had become with her since her reemergence in Jax’s life. “I need to see him. I need to see the boys, too. God knows what kind of crap Gemma’s filling their heads with.”

“It would do them some good to see you.” The kids wouldn’t be the only ones that could benefit from Stiles care, Jax would welcome it as well. “You’ll have to tell the pack that you’re going. You don’t want them to worry.”

“I know. I’ll tell them.” There was the weekly pack meeting tonight, if John wasn’t mistaken. The perfect setting for Stiles to let his friends know he would be gone.

“You could take Scott with you. I’m sure the kids would love him.” It would make him feel better if Stiles would take someone with him, but his son wouldn’t. Stiles liked to keep his worlds separate. “Or, I could take some time off work and come with you.”

“We can’t afford that.” He hated that Stiles knew that. He hated that he couldn’t take time off work if his son needed him. “I can go on my own. Maybe I can put in a few hours at TM and get a couple bucks to help with the bills.”

“Focus on your brother and the boys.” John urged his son. “Let me worry about the bills.”

* * *

 

Stiles headed over to the loft after leaving his father’s office. His dad was right; he needed to tell the pack he would be gone. Normally when he would leave for Charming a quick text to Scott would suffice, but since he didn’t know how long he would be away for, it was better to tell him in person.

No one besides Scott and Derek were in attendance when Stiles arrived. He was thankful for it. Honestly, he didn’t want to get into the Teller-Stilinski drama with the entire pack if he could help it.

“So, I’m going out of town for a while.” It was easier to get right down to it. No fuss, no muss. Just rip the band-aid off.

“Where are you going?” Scott didn’t look particularly surprised by Stiles announcement. The alpha had probably been expecting it to happen for a while.

“Charming. I have some family things to take care of.” He elaborated for Derek’s sake.

“Jax?” The McCall's were the only ones besides Stiles and his father that knew about that part of Stiles life.

“Yeah.”

“He finally called you back?” Scott had sat with Stiles after Tara’s death, offering moral support as he tried repeatedly to get in contact with his brother.

“No, Gemma showed up.”

“Gemma’s in Beacon Hills?”

“She was harassing my dad at the station.” She had gone to his dad, rather than coming to him directly, as a show of dominance. She wanted he and his father to know who was running the show. She was in for a rude awakening when he finally got to Charming.

“I thought I smelled biker whore in town.” Scott growled, earning a perplexed look from Derek, which probably had to do with the fact he had never heard Scott use such vulgar words in the time he had known them. Stiles could only huff in amusement at his friend’s words, Scott had the displeasure of meeting Gemma once upon a time, and she left lasting impression.

“Who are Gemma and Jax?” Derek inquired, taking Stiles by surprise with the question. The older man usually didn’t care to delve into anyone’s family dealings unless it directly affected the pack. Stiles made a point to never let his two lives intersect, therefore, the Gemma/Jax side of things would never touch the pack.

“Scott can explain everything to you and the pack while I’m gone.” He still had to go home and gather everything he would need for the trip. He didn’t have time to dillydally, or, in this case, get into a long and uncomfortable discussion about his father’s past affair with Gemma that resulted in his birth.

“Okay.” Derek nodded in agreement, accepting his answer, before gesturing toward the table by the loft windows. “Braeden left the file you asked her to get.”

“Tell her thanks for me.” He asked Braeden for that favor when they returned from Mexico. At the time, the only information he had about Tara's murder was what he had heard on the news. The club wasn’t talking and Jax had been imprisoned. He honestly didn’t think she would come through, but she did.

“Whatever it is that you’re doing, that involves a police file for a murder, is obviously dangerous. The pack won’t be with you in Charming to help.” The beta warned. “Be careful.”

“I will.” As careful as he could be in Charming.

“I know you have the club, but if you need us, we’re only a phone call away.” Scott reassured him before pulling him into a tight hug.

“Thanks.” He let himself linger in Scotts hold. He didn’t know when he would see his friend again and he needed this to last as long it could, for himself and for Scott. “Love you, man.”

“Love you too.”

They both knew the implications of those words. They didn’t normally vocalize that feeling, never really had. If they were said, it was usually because they were walking into a life or death situation. Stiles said them now because Scott was his brother, maybe not by blood like Jax was, but they were brothers nonetheless, and he needed him to know before he left, because he didn’t know when or if he would be coming back.

* * *

 

John watched his son pack from his place in the hallway. He watched Stiles alternate between tossing clothes haphazardly into a duffle and sitting on the bed, running a hand through his wild hair, staring at the bag with indifference in his eyes.

They both knew this trip was different from the others. Stiles was an adult now. He had college in the fall. He accepted a scholarship from Berkeley. It didn’t mean anything, though, when he went to Charming. He could so easily be sucked into Jax’s world, the way he was sucked into the wonderful world of the supernatural.

Stiles could choose a different path, one that led him away from Berkeley and closer to his brother. He could stay in Charming. He could join the Sons, though John hoped Jax would never let him. He could take care of Jax and make sure his nephews knew what love felt like without strings attached. John, unlike Stiles, realized that it was a real possibility. He knew that if Stiles saw the kids in danger his first instinct would be to step in and do something about it, even if it meant sacrificing his own future.

“I don’t have to go.” Stiles voice broke through John’s thoughts with the suggestion. “I don’t have to go if you don’t want me to.”

“You will drive yourself crazy with worry if you don’t.” It would start with the worry and stress, and then move on with insomnia, before John would end up driving Stiles to Charming himself.

“ _You_ are going to drive _yourself_ crazy with worry if I do go.” His replied pointedly. “It’s not good for your blood pressure.”

“My blood pressure is fine. And I worry every time you leave the house, Stiles.” It was part of being a parent. “Just more so when I know you’re leaving for Charming.”

“It feels different this time.” Stiles admitted solemnly. “Final. Like something’s ending.”

“Something did end, Stiles. Tara’s life.” The younger man flinched at the statement. “It feels final because you’re going to her home, you are going to see her husband and children, and she won’t be there. You’ll have to say goodbye to her.”

“Yeah….” He knew it was hard for Stiles to let go of anyone. The kid had seen more than his fair share of death. “Do you think you could talk to Jax?”

“About Tara?”

“You know what it’s like to lose your wife.” Losing Claudia was a wound that would never heal.

“Gemma’s lost two husbands, I’m sure she can offer him the advice he needs.” The glare his son shot him was more than enough for him to retract that comment. “I’ll come down to Charming on my day off and check in on you. If Jax is willing to talk to me about Tara while I’m there, then I will give him whatever advice I can.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

* * *

 

“Where’s Stiles?” Was the first thing out of Malia's mouth when she and ther rest of the pack entered the loft for the scheduled meeting.

“He’s going to be out of town for a while.” The five sets of eyes staring at him in confusion told Scott he wouldn't be getting away with anything less than a lengthy explanation.

“Stiles wouldn’t leave without telling us.” Lydia interjected before he could elaborate futher.

“He came to tell us before the meeting.” Derek informed the group. “He said Scott would explain the situation for him when everyone got here.”

“Well, everyone’s here.”

“Stiles went to visit his older brother and nephews.” Scott declared almost enjoying the comical looks of bewilderment he got in return.

“Since when does Stiles have family outside of his father?” It was an innocent question, but the way Lydia said it suggested there was nothing she didn’t know about Stiles.

“Since birth.” He replied testily. “Actually, the nephews are relatively new.”

“How come we never knew about them?”

“Look, it’s not like Stiles was keeping it a secret. He just never mentioned them.” Stiles wasn’t the type of person to divulge everything about his life to just any one, pack or not. “His older brother is kind of notorious.”

“Is he famous or something?” Liam asked earnestly.

“He’s the president of the Sons of Anarchy.” He regretted saying that the minute the words left his mouth. That was information that he knew Stiles didn’t want his friends to be privy to.

“Stiles’ older brother is Jax Teller?” Braeden’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“You know him?”

“I know of him." She shrugged her shoulders at the curious glances the pack shot her before continuing. "I was a U.S. Marshall and the Sons of Anarchy are a pretty big deal.”

 _Big deal_ might not be the right words to describe the club given how many times Stiles had visited Jax and the others in prison.

“So that file he asked me to get on the Tara Knowles murder…” Braeden trailed off, seemingly coming to her own conclusion about why Stiles wanted Tara’s file.

“She was his sister-in-law. They were pretty close.”

Tara had been murdered right before Kate had taken Scott on his joyride to Mexico. Stiles had to make the choice between going to Jax, who had been arrested, or saving Scott from the were-jaguar. Stiles had chosen to come for him, which he was thankful for, but he knew what it cost him.

“Hold on,” Lydia requested in a sharp tone. “The Sheriff has a son who’s the head of a biker gang? How does that work out?”

“Jax isn’t the Sheriff’s son.” Though, honestly, he looked more like John than Stiles did. “He’s Stiles half-brother through his biological mother.”

“Biological? Meaning his real mother?” Malia questioned.

“No. As in the woman who raised him, Claudia, wasn’t his mother by blood.” Until he met Gemma for the first time, Scott had only known Claudia as Stiles mother.

“Okay, so – “

“Look, I’m not getting into Stiles whole back story. It is his story to tell. I told you why he was gone, like he asked me to. If he wants you to know about that part of his life then he will tell you.” He would probably have to now, since they knew a small portion of it. He knew they would badger Stiles upon his return until he fessed up with the rest of the story.

* * *

 

Aside from the rescue mission to Mexico, the last time Stiles had left Beacon Hills was to see Tara. It was the only thing he could think about as he drove south down the highway. He met her at the park a few days before she died. Jax and Gemma had taken the boys from her by then. He had no idea what he was walking into at the time. He didn’t know about the secrets she would share or that he would never see her again. The only thing he knew was that she was fucking terrified.

_“There are things you don’t know. Things Jax doesn’t know.”_

_“About?"_

_“Gemma.” Gemma’s secrets tended to promise a bloody ending. “JT’s death.”_

_Stiles had never met JT. The man had died a few years before his birth. He knew that Jax had loved him, worshipped him even. He had read the manuscript, at Jax’s insistence, that held the deceased mans past hopes and wishes for the club and his remaining son._

_“What is this?” Stiles questioned, as she her shaking hands pushed a thick manila envelope to his side of the rickety table._

_“Copies of letters from a woman named Maureen Ashby. She knew JT. They had an affair and a child together.” Tara seemed to study him for a minute, looking for something on his face, shock maybe. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion when she didn’t find it._

_Stiles didn’t have it in him to even feign surprise. He had known about Maureen and Trinity Ashby about as long as Jax had. The older man had needed someone to vent to and telling his half-brother about his secret half-sister had apparently seemed like a good idea._

_“These prove Gemma’s involvement in JT’s death.” That… actually wasn’t shocking. Gemma had a hand in nearly everything that went down with SAMCRO. Why should her husband’s death be any different?_

_“You haven’t told Jax about these?”_

_“Jax isn’t ready to know and he will never believe the truth if it comes from me.” Jax would never believe her after the fake pregnancy and miscarriage debacle. “Gemma thinks she has all the copies. She gave some of the originals to Jax.”_

_“Some of them?”_

_“She only gave him the ones that implicated Clay.” Of course she had. Gemma would never implicate herself if she could easily pin it on someone else._

_“Why are you giving these to me?”_

_“You are the only one, besides me, that knows what Gemma is.”_

_He did know Gemma. What was worse was that he understood Gemma. He did not look at her with love and adoration, not the way Jax did, because he knew what she was. She was a mother, yes. She loved her children fiercely, even him, whether he ever chose to accept that love or not. However, behind the loving mother was a ruthless killer who would burn the world to the ground to keep what was hers._

_Stiles understood that._

_He, Scott and Allison had said ‘fuck all’ to the consequences when they had died for their parents. They had opened themselves and Beacon Hills up to a darkness that none of them were prepared for. Every body that had dropped, evil or innocent, because of the Nemeton, was blood on their hands._

_So yeah, Stiles knew Gemma. He knew what she was. He also knew that he could be just like her when the situation called for it._

_“You are the only one who can give Jax the truth when he is finally ready to hear it.” He would also be the one with a target on his back when Gemma went looking for retaliation, but he was willing to do that for Tara._

_“These letters aren’t the only reason you brought me here.” There was something else. He could see it written all over her face. She seemed to be having an internal battle on whether or not she wanted to tell him, though._

_“I’ve been trying to get my children away from Charming. I’ve done things that I never thought I would do for that purpose.” Protecting your family could lead you down a dark path, could make you do things you would never have considered otherwise._

_“Jax will forgive you.” If he could forgive Wendy for nearly killing his oldest child, then he could forgive Tara for creating and destroying an imaginary one. “It’s going to take time, but he’ll get there.”_

_“I don’t want his forgiveness. I just want my children to be safe. I tried so hard to get them out of this.” The tears streaming down her face and the raw emotion in her voice told Stiles just how defeated she felt. No matter how hard she tried, she did not believe she would be the one to save her children. “If I can’t get them out, if something happens me, I need you to do it.”_

_“Tara, nothing is going to happen to you.” He put as much force, as much belief, as he could behind the words, hoping she would believe and hoping he could believe them himself._

_“You’re the only one who could possibly understand what I’m trying to do.” He did understand, he just couldn't see why she thought he was the only option left on the table. “You’ve always been on the outskirts of the club, but you’ve seen the damage it’s caused.”_

_The death. The destruction. He had seen the weight that wore Jax and Tara both down more and more. He saw the toll it took on them, what toll it would eventually take on his nephews._

_“I’m not asking you to turn on Jax. I would never ask that of you. I know how close you are with him.” They both knew Stiles would never betray Jax. Not like that._

_Stiles was the outlet that Jax needed when he had to get his head out of the club and out of Charming. Jax was who Stiles needed when the supernatural had run him ragged and he had worried himself crazy over his father’s wellbeing. They kept each other sane, though they hadn’t been doing a very good job of it as of late._

_“I’m just asking you to take care of my boys if I’m not around to do it anymore.” Stiles entire body froze at the implication._

_This wasn’t a question for a last will and testament. She didn’t bring Stiles here to sign anything. It wasn’t some quirky ‘well if something happens to either us, we just want you to take care of our babies’ conversation that normal families had. It wasn’t going to be followed by hugs and kisses or ‘I can’t believe you would trust me with your precious children.’ Tara was not talking about_ if _something happened to her, she was talking about_ when _, as if it was already set in stone._

_“I know I shouldn’t ask that of you. I know that you’re only… Jesus, you’re only eighteen. I know I shouldn’t be putting this on you. But, you, Stiles, you are the only one I can trust. I know you love your brother and I’ve seen how much you love my children.”_

_“What do you need me to do?” If there were any way that he could help, he would do it in a heartbeat._

_“If they stay in Charming, if they grow up in that life, it only ends one way. It only ends in blood and violence. It ends with my children becoming killers or being killed before they even have a chance to live their lives. It means they live in fear. I don’t want that for them.”_

_“I don’t want that for them either.” It was the last thing he wanted for those boys. “I know Jax doesn’t want that life, not for his boys. He was talking about getting them out – “_

_“After we lost Opie, after he took his place at the head of the table…” Becoming President of not only the charter, but of the entirety of the Sons of Anarchy, came with more than power, it came with a burden that Jax and his family weren’t ready to take on. “Things changed. He won’t get out. I know what I’m asking you to do is dangerous. I know it will make Gemma see you as an adversary – “_

_“I’ve been at war with Gemma since I pinged positive on her pregnancy test.” Stiles pointed out humorlessly. “I’m not afraid of Gemma.”_

_“That’s why you are the one who has to do this. I tried getting Wendy’s help but Gemma got to her.” Wendy had always been weak, even before the drugs took control of her life. “You would put yourself in Gemma’s line of fire for my kids.”_

_“I would put myself in anyone’s line of fire for those kids,” He would give anything for them. “And for you or Jax.”_

_“I know you would. I know that.” He had told her before, more than once, that if she and the boys ever needed a safe place to go that Beacon Hill was only a two-hour drive. “I need you to take them. If I am injured or killed, take them out of Charming. Take them somewhere safe._

_“I will.” He assured her, hoping that he would never have to make good on that._

_“Save my boys, Stiles.” The heart wrenching sob that tore out of Tara made Stiles flinch.”Promise me.”_

_“I promise.”_

“I promise.” Stiles echoed from his memory into his empty jeep.

As he passed the wooden sign welcoming him to Charming, he hoped that Tara, wherever she was, knew that he would never break that promise.


	2. He's Always Been a Prodigal Son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd for now. I'll replace it with the beta'd version when I can.  
> Chapter title is from Long Time by Everlast.  
> Gif Sets for this Chapter: [Missed You Kid](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/98453143244/mama-gemma-au-missed-you-kid-6-part-1-2), [Dealing with Mom](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/99121570049/mama-gemma-au-how-do-you-plan-on-dealing-with), [Let's Not Bond](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/100124923494/mama-gemma-au-lets-not-bond-9-part-1-2).  
> Here's a [trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_2lQcGa5oSQ%20).

Jax had fallen asleep the night before to the sounds of an empty house. He expected to wake up that way as well. His home had been like a crypt since Tara’s death. The only sound he ever heard were the echo’s of his own sobs from when he found her body.

It wasn’t a deathly quiet he woke up to, as he suspected he would. It was an earsplitting scream that had him jolting out of bed and standing at attention with his gun drawn before his eyes even fully opened. It took him a moment to realize that it was Stiles screaming. Stiles, who he hadn’t seen in the months, hadn’t even heard from outside a few short phone calls. The surprise of his brother being in his house was quickly drowned out by fear as the screams continued, spurring Jax into action.

He followed the yells into the nursery where they were joined by loud sobbing sounding from the crib. Jax figured Thomas’s tears were triggered by Stiles shouting and would only calm when Stiles did. Stiles was currently thrashing around in the rocking chair, yelling at the top of his lungs. It was obvious he was still stuck in some hellish nightmare that he couldn’t wake himself from.

In a heartbeat Jax was at his side, pulling him out the rocking chair and onto the floor. Stiles struggled as Jax wrapped himself tightly around the younger man, pinning his body against him the best he could while urging Stiles face into the crook of his shoulder.

“Hey, hey,” Jax whispered into his brothers ear. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Ssh….”

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Abel stood in the corner of the room, frightened, as Jax tried to calm his uncle down.

“He’s okay, Abel.” Jax reassured his oldest son. “It was just a bad dream.”

Stiles seemed to calm down considerably at Jax’s words to Abel. His yells turning into chocked of sobs and hitching breaths. The shaking didn’t stop though, if anything it got worse.

“Is this a panic attack?” He vaguely remembered the ones Stiles used to have after Claudia’s death, but this was nothing like it. The only response he received was a shake of the head telling him that no, it was not a panic attack. “That was one hell of a way to wake up.”

He didn’t get the expected chuckle from his brother. He glanced over at his son, who looked less scared and more worried, before he felt his brother pull away from him. Stiles, practically sitting in his lap, sat back on his haunches looking down at his hands.

“One, two, three,” The younger man counted under his breath, voice barely audible, and a terrified look on his face. "Four, five, six, seven, eight, nine..."

“Stiles?” He put his hands on the boy’s shoulders, only to be ignored as the teenager continued counting.

“Ten.” Stiles shuddered out, a look of pure relief dawning his features. “There’s only ten.”

“Stiles?” He tried again, more firmly this time, earning a perplexed look as Stiles eyes shot up to meet is.

“Sorry.” He jumped off Jax’s lap as if he had been burned, stumbling back into the wall.

“It’s okay.” Jax assured him.

“I…” Stiles gestured out the doorway before making a swift exit, running a hand through Abel’s baby soft hair, a sign of comfort, as he went.

“Daddy, why was Uncle like that?” Abel asked quietly.

“I don’t know, little man.” Jax offered his son a small smile as he stood up off the ground. “Why don’t you go into the kitchen, I’ll grab your brother, and we’ll have breakfast.”

“Is Uncle coming?”

“He’ll be in when he’s ready.”

* * *

 

Stiles splashed cold water on his face, hoping that when he looked up at the mirror he wouldn’t see the red blood splattered in his reflection. He tried to stop the tremors that racked his body. To stop seeing Scott’s promises of death.

It wasn’t only Scott in berserker mode that had him screaming himself awake. It was the memories of the nogitsune that filled his mind when he closed his eyes at night. Every speck of blood that he saw on his hands was a testament to how weak he had been against the darkness. The nogitsune had used him, his hands, his body, and let him watch as it ripped people apart.

One day maybe it would be easier to shake it off. To stop the tremors that overtook his body. To stop the incessant need to count his fingers at random intervals during the day.

He didn’t know how he was going to write this one off to Jax. His brother had no idea about the evil spirit that had possessed him or that anything even could possess him. He never told him about werewolves, kitsunes, or kanimas. He thought it would be safer if he didn’t know, it was the same reason he had kept his father in the dark for so long. So, when Jax asked about his nightmares, and he would, Stiles had no idea what to say to him. Lying was so much easier before he started telling the truth, or a variation of it, to his father.

Stiles was the one everyone assumed would just bounce back, no matter what happened. He hated it sometimes, how his friends rarely bothered him about how he was feeling, aside from the expected _are you okay,_ to which he always replied that he was fine and they would accept it as truth. Stiles could play fine. He could play fucking fantastic, if he needed to. He could fake-it-till-you-make-it with the best of them. All he had to do was put on a smile and a brave face and hope Jax would just let it go.

He dried his face with a towel as he decided his course of action. He straightened his shoulders, stood a little taller. He ignored the bags under his eyes, like the blood he could see in the mirror, and, hopefully, his brother could too. He plastered on a smile, not one big enough to be called fake outright, but a small simple one that he wore when he told Scott he was alright every time he asked.

He walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen with a smile and a new resolve. Finding Abel eating breakfast at the kitchen table, Jax across from him feeding Thomas.

“Hey.” The way Jax says it is hesitant, like he’s unsure of how Stiles will react to a simple greeting. After the wakeup call Stiles had given him, he wouldn’t be surprised if his brother was hesitant about a lot of things.

“Hey.” He echoed cheerfully, trying to play if off like nothing out of the ordinary had happened this morning.

“You the one responsible for my boys being here this morning?” There was accusation in his tone, as if Stiles did something wrong by bring them home.

“I picked them up from Gemma’s when I got into town last night.” Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have gone anywhere near Gemma’s, but her place was on his way to Jax’s and he wanted to see the kids, so he made the sacrifice.

“You saw Gemma?” Jax asked incredulously.

“I saw Wendy.” She had seemed just as shocked to see him as he was to see her.

“How did you know they were at Moms?” As if they would be anywhere else.

“Lucky guess.” They both knew Jax wasn’t capable of running the club and being a full time or even part time, father.

“Why didn’t you wake me up when you got here?”

“It was late and you were out cold.”

He had every intention of announcing his presence as soon as he arrived, but when he had shown up to find the house empty and dark his plans had changed. He left Thomas in his crib and Abel with him in the nursery while he went to search out his brother. He’d found him lying face down in bed, shoes and kutte still on. Thankfully, he had enough common sense to take off his gun holster before giving in to exhaustion. Stiles was careful to not to wake Jax as he removed the sneakers and leather, before making his way back to kids.

“Why are you here, Stiles?”

“You need me.”

It wasn’t a question. Jax did need him, plain and simple. He needed someone on his side who didn’t have an agenda that pertained to club life. Someone who could look out for him and the boys without corrupting them any further.

“Missed you, kid.” Jax admitted, a small smile gracing his face.

“Missed you too.”

Stiles looked from Jax to where Abel sat. The boy’s eyes seemed resolutely fixed on his cereal bowl, though he wasn’t eating. He knew the kid was still a little freaked out by what he had witnessed this morning.

“Hey buddy.” Stiles smiled softly, crouching down beside his chair so they were eye level.

“Hi.” Abel stole a glance at Stiles briefly before returning his eyes toward the table.

“I’m sorry that I scared you this morning.” He had fallen asleep in the rocking chair the night before with Abel in his lap. He had probably knocked him right off when his nightmare hit him.

“You had a bad dream?”

“Yeah.”

“I have bad dreams some times.” The boy worried his lip between his teeth nervously, as if having a nightmare was something to be ashamed of.

“We all get bad dreams, Son. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Jax assured his son.

“You were screaming.” Abel said pointedly to Stiles.

“I know.” There was no use denying it. The whole neighborhood had probably heard him. He was lucky no one had called the cops, but seeing as it was Jax’s house, they most likely knew better than to contact the authorities because of strange noises coming from the residence. “It happens sometimes.”

“What was your dream about?”

“Um…” He honestly didn’t know how to explain without lying to the kid. “I lost of few of my friends and thinking about them gives me nightmares.”

“Why don’t you just find them?” The pure innocence of the question tugged at Stiles heartstrings.

“We looked for them, but it was too late.” They had tried to find Erica, Boyd, and Heather. They never had to find Allison, she was just there. “They died.”

“Like Mommy?” It was said so softly, barely above a whisper, but the reaction it got from Jax, a violent flinch that rocked the table against the wall, followed by a sharp inhalation of breath, probably sounded like a gunshot to the child's small ears.

It wasn’t surprising that Abel’s mind would automatically go to Tara. For someone so young he had already lost more than a few people he considered family. His Uncle Opie, whose death had broken his father beyond repair. Grandpa Clay, who everyone hated, but was a part of his life nonetheless.

Tara was the most recent, the most loved, the heaviest presence in the boys life. Abel was still young, that death was still new. He didn’t understand it, not really. Stiles was sure that he was still in the stage where he thought his mother would be walking through the door at any moment, like she always did. He would understand eventually. The memories would fade away, no matter how hard he tried to hold on to them.

“Yeah, like your mom.” Stiles swallowed the lump of emotion that had formed in his throat.

“I’m sorry, Uncle.” Small arms wrapped around Stiles neck, offering him comfort.

“Me, too.” He returned the hug, pulling his nephew tightly against him.

“I finished my cereal,” Abel looked at his father. “Can I go play now?”

“Sure.” Abel pulled away from the embrace, and with his father’s permission bounded off down the hallway.

Stiles marveled at the way kids could bounce back. One minute they were talking about dead friends and mothers and the next he wanted to play. He wished he still had that kind of innocence.

“So, what’s going on with the Wendy situation?” He asked as took the seat his nephew had vacated, completely ignoring the conversation he and Abel just had and hoping his brother would as well.

“What about it?” Stiles had never been so happy that Jax chose to let it drop rather than push.

“She’s been taking care of the boys.” Stiles points out, letting his disapproval of the situation known. “Is she going to tell Abel who she really is?”

“I don’t know.” Jax ran a hand over his tired eyes. “It wouldn’t surprise me if she told him already.”

“Speaking from experience, telling a kid that the woman who raised him isn’t his mother, right after she died, isn’t the best idea.” It was how he found out about Gemma, after all.

He was only eight and had already watched the woman who was his mother slowly lose touch with reality. He had sat by her bedside every day, even after she had forgotten who he was. He watched her take her last breath, all alone, in a ugly beige colored hospital room. He had stood clutching his father’s hand as they watched her body be lowered into the ground.

Gemma had shown up during the wake. She had found him during the one moment he hadn’t attached himself to his father’s hip. His dad had gone into the bathroom, to collect himself, and told Stiles to go find Scott and Melissa. Gemma had gotten to him before he made it to either McCall.

He wished he could say she was drunk, and that’s why she did it. He wished he could say she smelt like whiskey when she had leaned in and whispered what he had always hoped to be lies in his ear.

She had held onto his arm, tight enough to bruise, while she told him that she was his real mother. Claudia was a fake. She only claimed to love him because she was married to his father. Claudia was nothing but an imposter, waiting for the right moment to send him away. The illness didn’t make her forget who he was, she was just being cruel.

He didn’t know how long they stood there, in a dark corner, away from everyone else, before Melissa found them. Thinking back now he could remember her physically yanking Gemma away from him when she saw how panicked he was. And, fucking kudos to Ms. McCall for being badass enough to take on Gemma without a second thought.

Stiles didn’t stay for the fireworks, for the argument between his father and Gemma that followed. As soon as he was free of Gemma’s grip, he had bolted up the stairs and into his parents bedroom.

“Yeah, I remember that shitstorm.”

Jax and Opie were called to retrieve Gemma. Ope had been the one to drive her back, after forcefully placing her in the car. Jax had stayed behind to help out where he could.

Stiles remembered burrowing himself under his parents bed and thinking about the things Gemma had said. Eight year old Stiles had believed everything that came out of her mouth, no matter how much he wanted it all to be lies.

Jax had come in when neither his father nor Scott could coax him out of his hiding place. He had sat on the floor and let Stiles have the time he needed to calm down. When Stiles breathing had started to even out, when the tears stopped flowing, Jax had started talking.

Jax told Stiles about what it was like to lose Thomas and his father. He told Stiles about the pain that wouldn’t leave, and maybe Stiles couldn’t understand it then, but he understood it now.

“What do you think?” Stiles raised his eyebrows at the question. “Should we tell him?”

“Telling him now would only confuse him.” It sure as shit confused Stiles when he was kid. He had been eight at the time, Abel was only five. “He’s got enough crap in his head that doesn’t make sense right now. Like, why he’s spending so much time at Grandma’s and not at home.”

“I don’t want them in the house their mother was murdered in.”

Stiles eyes immediately tracked to the spot where he knew Tara’s body had been found. There was nothing there, he was sure Gemma had someone pull the floors up and replace the tile while Jax was inside. He knew Jax’s gaze ended up there every time he came into the kitchen.

“They don’t know she died here, Jax.” Abel had no idea that he had eaten breakfast this morning just feet away from where his mother had been killed. “They just know that this is home.”

He waited for Jax to get it. He needed his brother to understand the way a child’s mind worked. Home was sacred. It meant family and safety. If they were in their own home, in their own beds, the monsters couldn’t touch them.

“Wendy said they have had trouble getting the boys to sleep.” Thomas would cry for hours, while Abel outright refused to listen to them when they announced it was bedtime. “Last night, I put Thomas in his own crib and he was asleep almost instantly.”

“Abel didn’t even make it to bed.” Obviously, Abel had sold him out, the little twerp.

“He wanted me to read him a story.” Stiles couldn’t say no to him. He just pulled him onto his lap as he sat in the rocking chair and with a book in hand. “And then another story and another.”

“You are such a sucker.” Jax chuckled at him.

Stiles took the time to look over his brother as the conversation lolled. He looked like a soldier, at war, fit for battle, so out of place in the pale green kitchen. The weight of Tara’s death weighing heavily upon him. His relaxed posture did nothing to hide the tension that lined his face. Even Thomas, lying in his arms while suckling down the milk from the offered bottle, looked strange in comparison to Jax’s haggard look.

“Hey, so um, I’m sorry I missed the funeral.” He kicked himself for mentioning it when Jax’s face contorted with grief before closing off.

“It’s okay. I missed it to.” His brother replied before pointing to himself. “Jail.”

“Mexico.”

“Do I want to ask what the hell you were doing in Mexico?” He looked a bit conflicted while asking the question. A part of him obviously wanted to know while the other part wanted to leave well enough alone.

“It’s probably better if you don’t.” Stiles replied sheepishly.

“Fair enough. You gonna tell me what this morning was about?” The question left Stiles shocked, it sent him back to the nervousness he felt in the bathroom, when he was steeling himself for Jax’s inquiries.

“The nightmare?” He thought Jax had let it go earlier. He had hoped that he had enough of his plate without delving into Stiles problems as well. “Did you tune out while I was telling Abel?”

“You lost some friends?” Stiles fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat, his brother didn’t miss the movement if his furrowed brows meant anything.

It was at least part of the truth. Their deaths often played a role in his dreams, but it was never what happened to them that had him screaming himself awake. It was his mind replacing Kali, the Darach, and the Oni with his own face. It was the bodies of everyone he held dear piling up and their blood coating his hands. He couldn’t tell Jax any of that though. Jax had no idea the trouble that was going on in Beacon Hills.

“They were murdered.” That was the truth of it. They weren’t _lost_. They were dead.

“How?” He knew what Jax was thinking. Maybe something from one life had boiled over into the other and people were caught in the crossfire.

“Boyd and Erica were animal attacks.” That was what the official statement would say if anyone ever found the bodies. “Heather was a human sacrifice. Allison was stabbed in a mugging gone wrong.”

“Animal attacks are considered murder now?” The skepticism in his voice was not lost on Stiles.

“There were special circumstances.” He could theorize, if he wanted to. Spit out some random story of how a few psychopaths had locked Boyd and Erica in a room with a rabid animal. It was partially true.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I can’t tell you.” He wouldn’t tell him. He had told him more than enough already.

“You can’t tell me?” The irritation Jax felt at Stiles lack of answer was becoming visible in his movements, the way he shifted Thomas in his arms, the throbbing vein in his neck.

“Who killed Tara?” Jax stared at him wide-eyed and confused for a moment, trying to work out the relevance of that question to his before looking away, his jaw set in anger. “See, Jax, there are some things we can’t share.”

He tried to ignore the hurt that flashed across his brother’s face at that. The truth was, Stiles was not willing to bring Jax in on that secret. If he could keep Jax and the club out of it, then he would. He did not intend to endanger them any more than he had to.

“How do you plan on dealing with Mom?” Jax abruptly changed the subject while pulling the curtains back on the window by the table and looking out.

“I don’t know.” Stiles shrugged. “I have to mentally prepare myself to deal with Gemma.”

“I hope you’re prepared.” Jax irritation with his lack of a straightforward answer being replaced by smirk as the front door opened.

“Hey.” Gemma’s voice bellowed into the house.

“Crap.” Stiles huffed under his breath.

“Wendy said you came to pick up the boys last night.” Gemma started, oblivious to Stiles presence from her spot in the entryway.

“I picked them up?” Jax raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Stiles. “How’d you pull that one off?”

“I begged.” Stiles admitted, earning an amused smile from his brother. “I’m not proud of it.”

When the front door closed the sound of footsteps told Stiles that it was more than just Gemma that entered the house. Stiles didn’t have a lot of time to inquire about the other occupant when the pair rounded the corner and Gemma’s eyes landed on him.

“Gemma.” Stiles greeted, hoping for Jax’s sake that it didn’t come out too strained. Jax had enough stress without Gemma and Stiles bullshit getting in the way.

“Stiles.” She looked surprised, which was funny. Maybe his jeep in the driveway wasn’t enough of an indicator that he was in town, let alone in Jax’s house.

“Who is this?” The older man behind Gemma gestured toward him.

“My little brother.” Jax answered before Stiles could himself.

“Hi.” Stiles nodded absently.

“Little is right.” Stiles huffed in indignation at the man’s description of him. “He’s a little young to be prospecting.”

“No, he’s my actual brother.” Jax clarified. “My half-brother.”

“Gemma, told me about a half-sister you have through your old man.” The other man spoke to Jax, who shot a glare toward Gemma. Trinity was not a subject to be brought up with just anyone. “I didn’t know you had a brother through him too.”

“We don’t share the same father.” He was sure JT had been awesome and all, but he loved his father and wouldn’t change that for the world.

“He’s mine.” If she had said it another way, perhaps without the naked possessiveness, Stiles might have been able to let it go. The idea of taking the high road, of being the bigger person, of not rising to the bait, was forgotten the moment the words left her mouth.

“I didn’t know you had another son.” The poor bastard seemed genuinely confused by the mere sight of Stiles, his gaze jumping from Gemma to Stiles and back again.

“She doesn’t.” He stated matter-of-factly.

“My uterus and pussy say differently.” Gemma quipped back.

“I’m pretty sure that –“

“Stiles, there is a child in the room.” Jax warned before he could continue.

“I was gonna keep it PG.” He was well aware that Thomas was in the room.

“Yeah, sure.”

“So,” Stiles eyed the older man who stood just a little too close to Gemma to be anything but her latest love interest. “You’re Gemma’s new guy? The pimp?”

“Yeah, uh, I’m Nero Padilla.“ Nero offered his hand to him. “You gonna be in town long?”

“I’m not looking for work, if that’s what your next questions gonna be.” Stiles shook his hand quickly before the other man dropped it in shock.

“I was just going to suggest that we all sit down and have a family dinner while you’re in town.”

“You’re romantically involved with Gemma, so your life expectancy isn’t looking all that great. Let’s not bond.” Stiles replied while glaring at his brother who was failing to stifle a laugh behind his hands during he and Nero’s exchange.

“My boy.” Gemma grumbled, not a hint of amusement in her tone.

“You do keep things interesting when you come to visit, Stiles.” Jax smiled while lighting a cigarette, which Stiles promptly yanked out of his mouth. “Hey!”

“I’m extending your life.” Jax simply glowered at him while pulling out another cigarette.

Stiles reached over and grabbed the entire pack and Jax’s lighter from him. He batted his brother’s hands away as he flicked the lighter open and set fire to the entire package of cancer sticks.

“Do you have any idea how much those cost?” Jax looked at him incredulously.

“Think of how much money you are going to save by quitting.” Stiles threw the item into the sink and turned on the water to put out the flames.

When he turned back to the table he saw Jax’s petulant frown, while Gemma was looking from her lit cigarette to Stiles as if she was daring him to take it from her.

“If you’re going to smoke then do it outside.” Stiles ordered, gesturing toward the back door. “Don’t do it around the kids.”

“What no talk about extending my life?” Gemma mocked as she stubbed out the offending item.

“Don’t ask stupid questions, Gem.” He snarked back.

“So, what is this, then?” Nero leaned toward Jax to ask, while sending quick glances to Stiles and Gemma.

“It’s how they show their love.” Jax answered with a smirk.

“Love?” Stiles lifted his eyebrows at his brother. “That’s what you think this is?”

“Disdain.” The blond corrected. “Mutual disdain.”

“What are you two doing here anyway?” Stiles asked. “Just checking in on Jax?”

“We came to pick up the boys.” Her tone told him that there was no room for argument; they were taking the boys with them, whether Stiles liked it or not.

“I’m looking after the boys today.” He intended to spend as much time with them as he could while he was in town. Gemma was not going to keep Stiles from them.

“Abel has school.”

“It’s summer.” Summer was for freedom, not for school. It meant sleeping in late and playing outside until nightfall.

“It’s year-round private school.” Stiles cringed inwardly. His elementary school had been year-round and it sucked.

“Why can’t I stay with Uncle? He just got here.” Abel asked as he came in from the hallway, where he had apparently been listening in on the conversation.

“We can hang out after school, buddy.” He pulled his nephew quickly onto his lap, earning a giggle from the boy. “I’ll pick you up and we can do something, just the two of us.”

“You have to be listed on his contact sheet to pick him up.”

“I’m sure Jax can call and have them make an exception.” Stiles countered.

“Yeah, I can do that.” Jax replied before Gemma had the chance to find another reason for Stiles to miss out on his time with his nephew. “Abel shouldn’t you be getting ready for school?”

“Yes.” The boy grumbled, the smile falling from his face.

“Need help getting dressed, baby?” Gemma offered her grandson.

“No, I can do it.” He replied, reluctantly climbing off Stiles lap and setting off back toward his room.

“I gotta go check on things at Red Woody, wanna come?” Jax asked Stiles as Abel got out of hearing range.

“What the hell is Red Woody?” He regretted asking the minute a teasing smile graced his brother’s lips.

“Clubs new porn studio.” With a name like _Red Woody_ what else could it possibly be?

“I’ll pass.”

“You’re going to pass up porn?” Nero looked at him in disbelief as if any man, let alone a barely legal one, would pass up porn.

“Surprisingly, yes, I am.” He could watch porn whenever he wanted, he didn’t need to see it being filmed.

“The perks of my lifestyle are completely wasted on you.” Jax shook his head in feigned disappointment.

“Pretty much.”

“If you’re not coming with me then what are your plans for the day?”

“I have a few things to take care of before I pick up Abel from school.”

“You just got here, what do you possibly have to take care of?” Looking into Tara’s death was pretty high on his list, but he wasn’t going to say that in present company.

“Restocking your fridge, for one.” Judging from the amount of red meat and lack of greens in the house it was clear Gemma had been doing the grocery shopping.

“Awesome.” Jax grumbled. “Do what you need to do. Mom, you want to take Thomas back to your place?”

“Why can’t he stay with me?” He understood that Gemma had free reign of the kids as of late, but while he was here that would change.

“You gonna watch him?” Was that really a surprise? He always watched the kids when he came into town.

“I told Abel that he and I will spend some one-on-one time together later, so I might as well spend some time with Thomas now.”

“And it has nothing at all to do with your distrust of Wendy?” Gemma questioned.

“No, but it has everything to do with my distrust of you.” Stiles smiled sweetly as she glared at him.

“You can spew all the crap you want about distrust and hate, sweetheart. We both know you hate me marginally less now, then you did when you were younger and the wounds were still fresh.” Was that supposed to be some kind of accomplishment? Did she feel proud that his dislike for her wasn’t as strong as it had once been?

“I had to give up some of my hate for you to make space for my hate for other people.” He shot back. “Give me a few days in Charming and I’m sure I’ll have a few new wounds and a few more reasons to hate you.”

“Alright, you keep the kid, Stiles.” Jax held a hand between Stiles and Gemma, obviously trying to defuse the situation before it got out of hand. “You can drive Tara’s car while you’re here, it’s in the garage.”

“What’s wrong with my jeep?”

“You are not driving my boys around in that death trap.” Everyone always talked shit about his vehicle, the assholes.

“You are calling my baby a death trap? Have you seen your mode of transportation?” Talking about safety of the jeep was a bit like the pot calling the kettle black considering Jax rode around on a damn motorcycle.

“I don’t take my kids for rides on my bike.”

“Not yet.” Stiles corrected.

“Even if I did they would still be safer than in your jeep.” His jeep was responsible for saving lives, Jax probably couldn’t say that about his motorcycle.

“My jeep is a majestic beauty who has kept me safe since I’ve had it, and my father before me.” His father had given him that jeep when he had gotten his license, with the stipulation that he was responsible for the upkeep.

“Your jeep is older than I am.” Jax pointed out.

“And it has aged magnificently, which is more than I can say for you.”

“Either you take Tara’s car or Thomas goes with Gemma.” There was no room for argument in the finality of Jax’s voice.

“Fine.”

“Now that that’s settled,” Gemma huffed. “Abel, come on baby, it’s time for school.”

As soon as Abel was off to school, with goodbye hugs and promises of one-on-one time with his uncle, Jax had retreated to his bedroom to get ready for the day. Stiles was left to pick up the breakfast dishes and coffee cups, before taking Thomas into the nursery to put together a diaper bag.

Putting together things he would need for taking Thomas out was like packing for a week-long trip to the mountains when you weren’t sure if running water or electricity would be available. You had to take nearly everything, not because you would actually need it, but because you might, by the slightest chance, need it. Or, maybe, Stiles was just being paranoid and over-packing because he didn’t want the infant to hate him for doing something wrong.

When he was satisfied that he had packed sufficiently, prepared for everything, he gathered Thomas in his arms and turned toward the doorway. He was intent on leaving, to get a start on the day, but ended up jerking back in surprise when he saw his brother standing there, putting on his kutte, with a guarded expression on his face.

“What?” Was he about to get yelled at for he and Gemma’s snark-fest this morning?

“Have you seen Juice?”

_Have you seen Juice?_

It’s a simple question. Any other time Stiles would happily respond with the appropriate answer. It was Jax’s tone that kept Stiles mouth shut.

Jax never involved Stiles in club business. Juice was part of the club but his friendship with Stiles was completely separate. Jax had respected that up until now. By asking Stiles that question, in a tone that promised ill will toward Juice when found, Stiles was being brought into a world he did not want to be a part of.

“No.” He was being honest, whether Jax believed it or not. “I haven’t talked to him in a few weeks. I’ve been busy.”

“If you hear from him and he’s still in Charming, you tell me.” In Jax’s head that probably sounded like a suggestion, but the only thing Stiles heard was an order.

“I’m not one of the Sons, Jax.” He would make that perfectly clear. “I won’t jump when you say how high.”

“Nobody is asking you to jump.”

“You are asking me, without asking me, to find Juice.” His brother actually had the gall to look ashamed. “If I did, what would you do to him?”

“That’s not your concern.” He ground out, his face returning to the hardened mask, the one he wore when handling club business.

“Then finding him is not my problem.” Stiles wasn’t part of the club. He didn’t play by SAMCRO’s rules. He sure as hell didn’t take orders meant for a Son.

“He’s a traitor, Stiles.” Jax spit the words out like they were acid burning his tongue.

“That has nothing to do with me.” It wasn’t _his_ concern.

“Stiles – “

“I won’t lose another friend. There has been more than enough death.” He could list the number of Sons, people he had considered friends and brothers, as easily as he could list the members of his small circle of friends in Beacon Hills that they had lost in recent years. “And I will not be the one to walk him to the gallows.”

If he gave the club Juice’s location, that is exactly what he’d be doing, handing Juice over to a death sentence. He might as well put two bullets in the back of Juice’s head himself and then bury him out in the sticks.

“I won’t have his blood on my hands.” He needed Jax to know that, to understand that. Jax was his brother and Juice was his friend. He would not give either of them up to the other, no matter the circumstance.

“Okay.” Jax nodded his annoyance and reluctant acceptance showing clearly on his face.

His brother left without another word, leaving Stiles and Thomas in the nursery without so much as a goodbye. Stiles waited for the telltale sound of the motorcycle engine before maneuvering his phone from his pocket and sending off a text message that would only complicate things further during his time in Charming.

_S.O.S. In Charming. Need to see you._

Not ten minutes after the text was sent did he receive one back with an address attached to it.

* * *

 

“You’re worried.” Derek watched Scott pace in front of the loft windows. The Alpha had been feeling off since Stiles had left the night before. The pack could feel it. Derek could see it. “You are worried about Stiles.”

“Yeah.” Scott had stayed with him late the night before, long after the pack meeting had ended, and then shown up early that morning for no real reason that Derek could see. “Stiles and Charming… it’s not a good combination.”

“His brother is there.” If the Sheriff was willing to let Stiles go without a fight it couldn’t be too bad.

“Jax is great.” Derek pretended not to hear the spike in the Alpha’s heartbeat at that. “It’s that town, those people, they suck him in.”

“You think he’s not coming back?” He knew surviving Allison’s death had been the hardest thing Scott had ever done. He also knew that losing Allison was nothing compared to how Scott would feel if he lost Stiles, whether it be to death or abandonment.

“He’ll come back. He will always come back.” Derek did not doubt that. Stiles had too many people keeping him in Beacon Hills to leave it for good. “I’m not worried that he won’t come back. I’m worried about who he is when he does.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t really know how to explain it properly.” Scott admitted. “When Stiles comes home from Charming he’s different.”

“Different how?”

“He’s… darker.” They both winced at the word use. Darkness and Stiles would always coincide with the nogitsune. “It steals a piece of him, a good piece, and replaces it with something angrier.”

“Stiles has been through a lot in the last few years.” They all had. “He’s gotten stronger. I doubt a few weeks in Charming will change that.”

“When he comes back you’ll see it.” Scott’s voice started to shake. “It takes him days to defuse from Charming, to stop looking at everything like it’s a threat.”

“Stiles looking at everything like it’s a threat is part of who he is, Charming or not.” It’s one of the reasons they had made it this far.

“You don’t understand!” Scott growled at him, eyes flashing red. ”It will take him days, maybe weeks, for him to stop looking at _us_ like we are the threats.”

* * *

 

As Stiles drove toward the address that was given him he took notice of a familiar site behind him. A motorcycle was following him, a SAMCRO kutte clear as day on the rider. Stiles didn’t recognize the guy, but he wasn’t being the least bit sneaky about tailing Stiles.

“Amateur.” He chuckled before taking a swift turn, knowing he could easily lose the guy.

* * *

 

Jax watched as Montez walked into Red Woody looking like he had his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs.

“Aren’t you supposed to be protecting Stiles?” Jax questioned in the sternest voice he could muster.

“About that…” Montez looked toward his feet rather than looking Jax in the eyes.

“Aw shit.” Chibs laughed.

“He spotted you.” Jax surmised. “And you lost him.”

“One minute he was in front of me and the next he was just gone.” If Montez was less of a man he probably would have stomped his foot like a child.

“You know we use to have this sort of initiation for new transfers or prospects.” Tig enlightened the transfer. “We would put them on Stiles and Gemma duty.”

“If they couldn’t slip your grasp then you didn’t have to watch them ever again.” Bobby explained. “No one has ever kept both of them in his sights.”

“Not even Happy?” Montez looked toward the other man.

“Stiles is trained in evasive driving.” Happy responded with a glare.

“He was fourteen.” Jax snorted. “He wasn’t even old enough to drive.”

“That didn’t stop him.” Happy growled indignantly at the king.

“So this was a test?”

“And you failed.” Bobby patted him on the shoulder in sympathy. “But it was expected.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Stiles makes moves to protect a member of SAMCRO.  
> [TUMBLR](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/)  
> [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/user/SandM1827/)  
> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments. They are greatly appreciated.


	3. You Calm the Storms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hasn't been beta'd yet.  
> Title is from Everything by Lifehouse.  
> Chapter is set about 7x03.  
> Gif Set: [Are You Going to Do Bad Things?](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/101142038674/mama-gemma-au-are-you-going-to-do-bad-things).  
> I realized I flubbed the Teen Wolf timeline a bit. To be clear in this story the pack were seniors during seasons 3 and 4 rather than juniors. The nogitsune and dead pool are still very fresh wounds for Stiles and that's going to show.

“You look like shit.” Was the first thing out of Stiles mouth when the door opened.

“I look like shit?” Juice huffed, moving to allow Stiles and Thomas into the apartment. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“I haven’t been sleeping.” He retorted while making his way into the living area, placing the infant’s car seat on the couch before collapsing onto it himself. “I have nightmares. What’s your excuse?”

“I haven’t been sleeping.” The older man parroted. “Because, my club wants me dead and I’m afraid that if I close my eyes I’ll wake up with one of them standing over me with a knife, waiting until I’m lucid, to carve _traitor_ into my forehead.”

“That’s very… descriptive.” He was taken aback by how horrifying it sounded. “A couple of days on your own and you are already in that place.”

Juice had always been at home in a group of people. He would work incredibly well in a pack, given the chance. He was born for something like that. Juice needed others, family. He needed to be needed. Without people to care for, without people to care for him, he was just lost. His mind would become jumbled, his thoughts too loud. Before long he would end up in the place where everything was dark and only the worst could happen. He would constantly be on alert and never able to relax.

“I don’t like being alone.” It sounded so pitiful coming out of his mouth, but fuck if Stiles couldn’t relate.

“Neither do I.” Being alone was the one thing that could tear them both to pieces without any effort. “You’re not alone right now. I’m here.”

“Thank you.”

“I can’t stay for long, today.” Seeing how rundown Juice looked made him want to. “I have to pick up Abel from school in a little while.”

As Juice sat down beside him on the sofa, he took a moment to take in their surroundings. The apartment was nice, considering it was on the sketchier side of town. It was clean, which was probably Juice’s doing. He couldn’t help but notice the feminine touches that were everywhere.

“Whose place is this?” He questioned.

“Wendy’s.” Juice answered while biting his lip. “She didn’t know I was here until she got out of rehab.”

“She’s letting you stay?” That was more than a little surprising. “Who else knows you’re here?”

“Unser and… um…” Juice bit into his lip as he looked away from Stiles before giving up the other name. “Gemma.”

“That’s one hell of a starting line-up you got there.” With those three in his corner his chances of survival dwindled from _maybe_ to _not a chance in hell_.

“They are helping me.” The incredible lack of confidence in the other man’s voice told Stiles that even he didn’t believe that.

“You have two women who would sell you out in a heartbeat, if it meant staying on Jax’s good side.” Wendy would do whatever she had to do to keep Abel in her life. Gemma, well, everyone knew what her game was. “And you have the one guy who would jump if Gemma said how high, even if he had a bullet in each kneecap.”

“They are trying to help me, for whatever reason, for however long.” Juice replied. “I don’t have a lot of friends left. I don’t have many people willing to help me. I can’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“You should have called me.” It’s not like he had a lot of time on his hands, or that he could have come running the minute Juice asked him to, but he could have done something.

“I dug my own grave. I wasn’t going to call you to help me make sure it stays empty.” Juice chuckled darkly. “Plus, it’s not like we’ve talked in a while. You’ve been busy. I’ve been distant.”

“Distance and the shit I’ve been dealing with don’t mean anything.” Stiles leaned his forehead against the other mans. “I will always find a way to help you.”

He saw a glimmer of tears in Juice’s eyes before they closed. He felt the hitch in his breath, the bitten back sob.

“Will you help me with something?” He whispered, hoping to pull Juice out of the darkness of his head.

“What do you need?”

“Perspective.” He retrieved the heavy folder from where he had stuffed it in the diaper bag earlier, placing it on the coffee table in front of them.

“That’s Tara’s file.” Juice said weakly. “How did you get that?”

“A friend. A friend I now owe a favor to.” He still wasn’t sure how he was going to pay Braeden back.

“A friend.” Juice echoed back as Stiles opened the folder. “Christ.”

“I don’t understand how club shit works, not really.” He understood the basics of how SAMCRO worked, but it was other organizations he had no idea about. “I know it was retaliation for something but…”

He let his voice trail off as he looked at Juice. He couldn’t help but notice the nauseated look that graced the other mans features when he looked down at the crime scene photos. He knew Juice had seen, and caused, brutality, but it was different than seeing it on someone you knew.

“Why don’t you go take a nap?” He suggested. “I’ll keep an eye on the door. Make sure no one gets in to hurt you.”

“No.” Juice shook his head. “I don’t want to sleep."

“Then grab a blanket, lay it out on the floor, and play with Thomas for a bit.” Juice could, hopefully, relax while trying to entertain the baby. Thomas would probably be happy enough not to be stuck in the car seat all afternoon.

“Yeah, okay.” Juice agreed and headed off to find a blanket.

Stiles brought his focus back to the file, trusting Juice to look after Thomas.

It was hard to look at the photos, to see the damage. The broken dishes littering the floor, the blood mixed in with dirty sink water. Tara’s body lying broken and unmoving.

The coroner’s report did not paint a prettier picture. There were signs of a struggle, obviously. She had been struck multiple times in the abdomen and ribs, with an object that was determined to be an iron, which was not found at the scene. There had been traces of water in her lungs, water that had matched what was in the sink. It listed the number of times the murder weapon, a barbecue fork, had been shoved into her skull.

It was obvious from the disarray of the room, and from the wounds inflicted on her, that Tara had fought back against her attacker. It wasn’t at all surprising. Tara was a born fighter, though she hid it well. She was not only fighting to simply survive, she was fighting so that she could make it out alive, and so she could take care of her boys.

None of it seemed right. Not if it was retaliation against the club. He assumed that’s what it was, club business, the clubs war. He knew Jax was deep in something, it was written all over his face when Stiles had seen him. He didn’t know what it was or who it was with, but he knew it had everything to do with what happened to Tara.

“Who does the club think killed Tara?” He asked as looking up from the file for the first time in what felt like hours.

Juice was sitting on the floor, blanket splayed out beneath him. Thomas was lying on his belly, a big smile on his face as he looked up at Juice, who was waving a stuffed giraffe in front of him. Juice seemed better, not as tense, which made something relax in Stiles. He gave himself a pat on the back for knowing that Thomas would be the one to break the other man out of his stupor for a just a little while.

“The Chinese.” Juice knew better than to spin some _I don’t know_ or _it’s club business_ bullshit for him. If he didn’t tell him, he knew Stiles would just go looking for answers himself.

“Is it typical for them to use a barbecue fork on their victims?” It seemed a little out of the norm to him.

“I don’t know.” Juice seemed to shudder at the very idea of it. “They are the ones that cut off Chucky’s fingers.”

“That wasn’t exactly unwarranted.” He kind of wondered if Chucky would have survived prison without Otto’s help, given his nervous tick. “So, they supposedly planned the attack. They were armed, if what happened to Sheriff Roosevelt is anything to go by. Rather than use the gun, and make a quick getaway, they decide it was a good idea to beat Tara up and then take a meat fork to her head. That doesn’t sound fishy to you?”

“Yeah, I guess it’s weird.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked back at Thomas.

“It’s not weird, Juice.” Stiles grumbled. “It doesn’t fit. And the file says that she was stabbed repeatedly, after she was already dead.”

“Other crews have been known to do some really horrible things in the name of retaliation.” The tension was back in Juice’s shoulders instantly.

“What happened to Tara was not retaliation, not the club kind anyway. It’s not a message, either.” He thrust a crime scene photo at Juice, once showing the damage done to Tara’s skull. “The person who killed her didn’t bring their own weapon. They grabbed that fork from the kitchen counter. It was not planned, nobody knew Tara was going to be at the house except for the club. The opportunity just happened to present itself when she came home. The person who did this was enraged, not at the club, but at Tara personally. It was a crime of passion.”

“You should let Jax handle this.”

“If it was a hit, it would’ve been quick, precise, and emotionless.” He knew that wasn’t completely true. Emotion is what drove revenge in the first place. The level of it shown by the brutality of the crime just did not fit some retaliation from a deal gone south. “Even if it was the Chinese, and they happened to decide that the meat fork was a better choice than a gun, they would have stopped stabbing it into her, when they saw she had gone limp.”

“Gemma said it was the Chinese.”

“If Gemma said it then it must be true.” Stiles replied sarcastically.

“Stiles, please, let this go.” Juice begged. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Who is gonna hurt me, Juice?” He questioned. “You?”

“I would never hurt you.” The older man growled. “ _Never_.”

“Then, who?” Stiles asked. “Gemma?”

Stiles did not want to believe that Gemma could hurt Tara. However, he knew what Gemma was capable of. He knew the kind of rage it took to inflict that damage that Tara had suffered. It took someone who loved the person just as much as they hated them.

“Why would Gemma hurt you?”

“Why would she protect you?” That question was bothering him. Gemma loved all the club members in her own way, but there was no reason he could think of that she would protect another member from Jax’s wrath.

“She doesn’t want anyone else to die.”

“Bullshit.” Stiles spit out, his anger rising at the blatant dishonesty of that statement. “Tell me another lie, Juice, this time make it passably believable.”

“I – I - “ Juice stuttered. “I helped her, so she is helping me. Wendy and Unser are helping because of her.”

“What did you help her with?”

“Stiles, please, I can’t…” His voice quivered. “I can’t tell you.”

“You can, but you won’t.” Stiles hissed. “There is a big difference.”

“If she found out that you knew…” Juice’s face sobered instantly, his eyes locking with Stiles. “She wouldn’t hesitate, blood or not.”

“I am going to ask you a simple question, okay?” He waited for Juice to nod in agreement before continuing. “You are going to give me a straight answer of _yes_ or _no_ , and it will be the truth, alright?”

“How will you know if I’m telling the truth?”

“Enough lies have been told, Juice.” Nearly every body that had dropped was a result of a lie. “Trust me with the truth, because I am going to protect you no matter what answer you give me.”

“Why? Why would you help me?” Juice lifted himself off the floor and started pacing around the small living room, agitation in every step he took. “You don’t know what I’ve done… You would hate me if you knew. Why?”

“Because, I love you.” It wasn’t platonic or brotherly, not the kind of love the club members showed, but it was love nonetheless.

“I- I love you too.”

“I know.” Juice had always worn his heart on his sleeve. It was a weakness club life hadn’t broken him of. “Was it you that killed Sheriff Roosevelt?”

“What?” The older man froze on the spot, clearly not expecting that question.

“ _Yes_ or _no.”_

“Yes.” He answered quickly. “But I thought – “

“You thought I was going to ask if Gemma killed Tara?” That was a question he didn’t need Juice to answer.

“Yeah.”

“You already gave me that answer, babe.” Stiles smiled sadly at him.

Gemma was, as far as he knew, the only witness the club had to Tara’s murder, which was more than a little suspicious in itself. Everyone, including her, had known that Tara was going to make a deal. Gemma had been the only one unaware, until it was too late, that Tara had dropped the deal, and that Jax had made a counter one. She would do anything to protect Jax, to keep him close. If Tara had to die to keep Jax where Gemma wanted, then Stiles didn’t doubt that Gemma would do what she had to do.

“Knowing that you were the one who pulled the trigger on Roosevelt, and the implication that Gemma would hurt me if I knew why she was helping you… that was all the confirmation I needed.” He and Gemma had their differences but there were few things she would physically harm him over.

“She will _kill_ you, Stiles.” Juice said with absolute certainty. “You can’t say anything.”

“I won’t. Not yet.” He could not just run to the club, throw that truth at them, and expect to be believed. “I need to figure out how to prove it to Jax first.”

“If she finds out that I told you…” They both knew the implications of that.

“She won’t.” He assured the older man.

“What are you going to do?” He asked with trepidation lining his voice, as if he assumed Stiles was going to do something stupid.

“Now? I’m going to take Thomas to Wendy, and then I’m picking Abel up from school.”

With that in mind Stiles started gathering the things he had brought over. He closed Tara’s file and shoved it back in the diaper bag before standing up off the couch. He took Juice’s previous place on the floor to pick up the toys that had been pulled out, eliciting a few pouts from his nephew.

“Sorry, bud, but we gotta go.” He smiled at the baby before looking up at Juice. “Tomorrow, we are getting you out of here.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go.” Juice shook his head at the idea of leaving.

“I’m going to call a friend later, see if you can crash with him for a while.” He really did not want to put the pack and SAMCRO at odds, and leaving Juice with the pack might do just that. That was assuming Jax ever thought Stiles would take Juice to Beacon Hills for protection. “Just until I can find you something more permanent.”

“I don’t want you to involve your friends.” He didn’t want to involve them either but he would if he had to, and it was looking like he had to.

“And I don’t want you to die, so…” It was a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation. “When Gemma or Wayne does their check in with you, you tell them that you are skipping town tomorrow. If they ask you where you’re going, you say that it’s safer if they don’t know.”

“Okay.”

“One night.” Stiles said firmly. “Keep it together for one more night, okay?”

“Yes.” Juice nodded, taking a seat on the couch.

“Good.” He returned his attention to his nephew. “Here’s the deal, I do not want to leave you with Wendy. I don’t really trust her, but you’re father is incapable of taking care of you, and I promised your brother some one-on-one time. The only other option is leaving you with grandma, and I seriously do not trust her. We are going with the lesser of two evils here, bub.”

“Are you going to ask me why?” He asked it like he had been repeating the question several times, or maybe he had just been waiting for Stiles to ask.

“Why, what?”

“Why I killed Roosevelt?” Stiles had figured out Gemma was behind Tara’s murder after spending a few minutes looking at the crime scene photos and letting Juice unintentionally fill in the blanks. Figuring out why Juice killed the former Sheriff was piece of cake.

“You were protecting Gemma.” Obviously, Sheriff Roosevelt had walked in on Gemma at the crime scene, Juice had been there, for whatever reason, and took action. “Maybe you were getting back at him for setting you up to be a rat. Does that sound about right to you?”

“Yeah, sounds about right.” Juice looked down in shame. “Are you angry because I killed him?”

“Furious.” He was beyond angry, but he could hide it better than others could. “You should have let him take Gemma in.”

“I couldn’t let Jax lose his wife and mother in the same night.” Even when the club, when Jax, wanted him dead, Juice was still looking out for his brothers.

“Anything else I should know?” If the way Juice’s shoulders sagged told him anything it was that he definitely should not have asked that question. “Out with it.”

“I gave Gemma the lie about the Chinese.” Stiles let out a loud groan at the omission. “I told her to tell Jax they killed Tara.”

“Jesus Christ.” Stiles wanted to bang his head against a brick wall at the sheer stupidity of that.

“You don’t have to help me.” Juice murmured curling in on himself.

“I’m going to help you, but, Jesus… you don’t fuck up halfway, do you?” Stiles asked as he gave his hair a nice yank to vent out some of his frustration.

“No.”

“Telling Jax the truth now won’t even stop the war with the Chinese.” There was a war, whether Jax told him or not. If he thought the Chinese had killed Tara, he would not just sit around and do nothing. “It will only cloud his head.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. I know you are.” It was too bad that sorry could not fix anything. “I’m gonna fix it, okay? _We_ are going to fix it.”

“You can’t fix this, Stiles.” He was probably right, but that was not going to stop him.

“I can try.” He would try. If he didn’t, he would lose another friend and that wasn’t an option. “We can fix some of it. Not all of it is on you… Jax would have gone off the rails out of grief no matter what. A war would still be raging, maybe even with the same people. Jax would have found a reason to spill blood.”

“What are you going to do about Gemma?” That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it?

“Nothing.” Aside from dropping a few subtle, or not so subtle, hints about his knowledge on what she had done, he did not have any moves to play just yet “I told you, Jax isn’t ready to know that truth yet.”

“He will kill her.” If Jax found out now, he would put a bullet between Gemma’s eyes before he even realized his finger was on the trigger. “I know Jax. It does not matter what she did. If he kills her, it would destroy him.”

“I know. That is why we need – I need,” Stiles corrected. “I need to destroy her instead. I need Jax to let me make the final call on what happens to her.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“Leverage.” He replied simply, earning an inquisitive look from the other man. “I’ll leverage the truth. I will give him two truths instead of one, in exchange for Gemma’s fate.”

“What’s the other truth?”

“You don’t need to worry about that.” The less people who knew about Gemma’s role in JT’s death the better. It wouldn’t be worth much if that information worked its way through SAMCRO. “It has nothing to do with you and you have more than enough secrets of your own, you don’t need another of Gemma’s on top of it.”

“Okay.”

“Look, I have to go.” He picked up Thomas off the floor as he stood. “Are you good for the night?”

“Yes.” Juice nodded, seeming to be in better spirits now then he had been when Stiles arrived. Getting all the lies off his chest did him some good.

“Call me if you need to.” He may not be able to ride in on a white horse to the rescue, but he could pick up the phone and listen.

“Jax will know you’re helping me if he hears us talking.” Unlike Jax, Juice respected the boundaries Stiles had put in place, separating his friends from the club.

“Please, he already knows.” Despite the decisions he was prone to making, Jax was not a complete idiot. “He knows me too well to think I would let you die, by his hand or anyone else’s.”

“I don’t want to put you between us.” That might have been one of the reasons Stiles was so determined to help him.

Juice did not call him for help, because he refused to put Stiles in the position where he would have to choose between his brother and his friend. Jax didn’t seem to have a problem expecting Stiles to hand over Juice, even if it meant having the guilt of Juice’s death on his conscience. Juice would rather put his life in Gemma’s hands than have Stiles in the middle.

“Jax already did that.” The moment he asked Stiles if he had heard from Juice, he smacked Stiles between them. “I told him my opinion on handing you over. And, yes, I’m technically taking sides, but if Jax really wanted you dead he would have put someone smarter on my tail than the guy I saw this morning.”

“Who was it?”

“Short Hispanic guy.” He didn’t recognize him, but the kutte had given him away as a Son.

“Montez.” Juice surmised. “It must have been his initiation.”

“Tailing me is an initiation?” That was not as surprising as it should have been.

“You and Gemma.” He and Gemma both took Jax’s idea of protection as a direct challenge. Honestly, if the guys couldn’t do something as simple as follow a vehicle, then how were they supposed to keep anyone safe? It was a learning experience really. “No one has ever been successful with the both of you.”

“I’m actually kind of flattered.” He might have to gloat about that later.

“I think it’s the clubs way of showing the new guys what a pain the ass you are.” Juice commented. “You probably shouldn’t be flattered. Maybe insulted.”

“Too late, I’m flattered.” He flashed a smile Juice’s way as he started loading Thomas into his car seat. “Okay, I will pick you up in the morning after I drop Abel off at school. So, I’ll be here early.”

“Jax will want someone with you. It’s dangerous to be out on your own right now.” If SAMCRO was at war there was no way Jax would let Stiles roam Charming without an escort. “If it isn’t Montez, it will be one of the other guys.”

“As you so helpfully pointed you, none of you have ever successfully tailed me, so it won’t be a problem.” Seriously, that was good information to have. He was quite proud of himself. “I’ll let them follow me to Abel’s school, then I’ll double back to the house for my jeep – “

“You don’t have your jeep now?” Juice cut him off.

“No, apparently, my jeep isn’t kid safe. I’m driving Tara’s Volvo.” Driving that thing must be what Derek felt like in his mom car. “Anyway, I will double back for the jeep and tell Jax I am going to see my dad for the day. He will know that I am perfectly safe with the Beacon Hills County Sheriff.”

“It’s the two hours between here and Beacon Hills that he’ll be worried about.” The older man pointed out.

“I will reassure him that I am armed and perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” He didn’t need a Son following him around when they could just as easily be sticking by Jax to insure that he didn’t get himself killed.

“Are you armed?” Juice asked curiously, eyes roving over Stiles person, trying to spot the weapons location.

“Yes, I am. My dad actually insists on it when I come to Charming.” His father had made him sit and the kitchen table and watched while he cleaned and loaded his gun before he left Beacon Hills. “Which is funny because he’s very against me carrying a gun when I’m home.”

“Your father is a smart man.”

“He is.” Stiles agreed. “Shit, I have to go. Stop distracting me.”

“You distract yourself.” Juice chuckled.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” He placed a quick peck on Juice’s lips. “Call me if you need me.”

“You kissed me.” Juice teased, the tiniest bit of the light that Stiles didn’t think he would see again, shining in his eyes.

“That was barely a kiss.” If he had _really_ kissed Juice it would not have stopped there, it never did with them. It would’ve ended on the floor, Wendy’s bed, the couch, or quite possibly the kitchen table. He couldn’t let it get that far with Thomas in the room. “It was a _friendly_ kiss.”

“You kissed me and you have a girlfriend.” Juice said feigning scandalized.

“I don’t actually. We both decided it would be best to explore our options during college.”

“That sucks?”

“Was that a question?” Stiles asked in amusement.

“No– yes, I don’t know.” He stammered. “Don’t you have to pick up Abel?”

“Yes!” Stiles exclaimed loudly, startling Thomas. “You think Jax would be pissed if I took Abel to the cemetery to visit Tara?”

“You would have to pick up Abel to take him anywhere.” Juice pointed out. “And I don’t know how Jax would react. You should probably ask him first.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” Stiles slid the diaper bag strap over his shoulder.

“I do have them sometimes. Not lately, but sometimes.” Juice claimed halfheartedly. “You should go.”

“I’m going.” He hefted the car seat up off the couch. “I will see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, I know.” Juice stood up from the couch to show him out “You have said that more than a few times already.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stiles gave him a jaunty wave before turning heading out the door.

He was hesitant to leave Juice, though he knew he didn’t have a choice. Juice would have to be okay on his own for one more night. Tomorrow, he could be out of Charming, he would be somewhere safe.

He took one last look at the closed door before heading down the stairs and watched a familiar truck pull up as he reached the last step. He had wondered whom he would seek out first about their knowledge of Juice’s whereabouts. It was a stroke of luck that one of them happened to show up.

“Wayne.” He greeted as the older man exited his vehicle.

“Stiles,” Unser gave him a polite smile. “Gemma said you were in town.”

“I’m sure she did.” He sighed as he unlocked the Volvo. “Alright, let’s do this now.”

“Do what?” Unser shot him a confused look.

“Let’s do the thing where I make sure you keep quiet about my visits to Juice.” He shot a glare over his shoulder as he strapped the car seat into place. “You don’t tell Gemma, and you keep me informed of all contact Gemma has with Juice.”

“Excuse me?”

“You do that or Jax might find out your involvement in JT’s death.” He slammed the door shut and turned to face the older man. “I don’t believe he’s in the mood to be forgiving, even if it’s a past sin. What do you think?”

“Half a day.” Wayne chuckled.

“What?” It was Stiles turn to look confused.

“Half a day and you are already acting like one of them.” He shook his head tiredly. “That a new record?”

“Probably.” He wasn’t going to deny it, and he wasn’t going to think about which one of _them_ he was acting like, because he already knew. “Do we have an understanding?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“You and I both know that Gemma isn’t helping him out of the goodness of her heart.” He needed Wayne on his side. “I’m trying to keep Juice alive.”

“I wanna help the boy.” He gestured toward the apartment. “That’s why I’m here. If something happens with Gem, concerning him, I’ll let you know.”

“Good.” Stiles nodded. “I know you are loyal to Gemma, but Gemma isn’t loyal to anyone but herself.”

“Yeah, kid, I know.” Wayne replied tiredly. “Her loyalty is to herself and to Jax.”

“She’s only loyal to Jax if she can keep him close, it doesn’t extend any further than that.” Stiles corrected. “Be very careful with the steps you take when it comes to her. She’s unraveling, whether she realizes it or not.”

* * *

 

“Hey,” Jax greeted as he joined Stiles by the bar at Diosa. “What are you doing here?”

“Abel drew Gemma something at school.” He was incredibly proud of it when he got into the car. “He couldn’t wait to give it to her.”

“Cool.” Jax nodded, looking over to the room Gemma and Abel were in.

“Was it okay that I brought him to the uh… massage parlor?” Massage parlor his ass. “Gemma said he’s been here plenty of times.”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Jax nodded before his face scrunched up. “You talked to Gemma? No yelling? No snark?”

“I had to find out where she was.” He was not going to drive all over town looking for her because Abel had to give her his drawing that very second. “We can be civil toward each other. Hell, we can be downright pleasant if the situation calls for it.”

“Sure.” Jax snorted. “I’ll be back in a minute; I need to talk to her about Nero and Juice.”

The pointed way he said Juice’s name set Stiles on edge. Obviously the older man still held some anger, or, at the very least, annoyance, at Stiles for what happened that morning. He was aware Jax only said it because he was trying to get a rise out of him, but that didn’t keep him from watching through the window as Jax talked to Gemma. He cursed his reliance on Scott’s werewolf senses when he realized how out of practice he was at reading lips, they might as well have been speaking gibberish for all Stiles could make out.

“Damn it.” He muttered under his breath.

“Something wrong, darling?” A blonde woman that appeared from behind the bar questioned.

“Nope, I’m good.” He was only trying to stop his brother from killing one of his friends.

“You have an appointment?” Stiles shook his head. “Do you want one?”

“No, thank you.” He tried to keep the grimace off his face.

He did not know how things worked at Diosa. He didn’t know if the women who worked there did so willingly or not. He wasn’t trying to judge them for their line of work, but the idea of paying someone to want him made him feel sick.

“How ‘bout a drink?” She grabbed the nearest bottle from behind the counter. “You a rum and coke kind of guy?”

“I’m driving.” And underage, not that it mattered. “I don’t need anything. I’m just waiting for my nephew.”

“Who’s your nephew?”

“Hey Colette,” Jax’s called from behind him, he glanced back to see Gemma and Abel beside him. “I see you met my little brother.”

“I guess I have.” She held out a hand to him. “Colette.”

“Stiles.” He shook her hand briefly, noticing the look she shared with Jax.

“Well, I should go help out with the books.” She smiled politely. “It was nice to meet you Stiles. Jax, will I see you later?”

“I’m not sure.” He replied with an apologetic smile.

“Okay then.” She leaned over the bar to place a chaste kiss to the side of Jax’s mouth before sashaying away.

“So,” Stiles watched her walk away. “Is she helping you work through your mommy issues?”

“Fuck you very much.” Jax’s glare dulled out by his smile, jerking his thumb back toward Gemma who had let out a bellowing laugh. “She just fucking said the same thing while we were talking.”

“Mommy fetish.” Gemma elaborated.

“It is what it is.” Stiles shrugged.

“I like it much better when you two don’t agree on anything.” Jax grumbled.

“I know.” He patted his brother on the back in faux console. “Abel and I are going before any of your other kinks show up.”

“Fuck you again.”

“I’m not into incest.” He smirked. “I’ve been told you got pretty close with your half-sister, though. Give her a call. Maybe she’ll still be willing.”

“Oh, you motherfuck-” Jax let his words trail off as he threw a betrayed look at Gemma. “You told him?”

“What? Your embarrassment is the only thing he and I can bond over.” Jax may have told Stiles about having a half-sister but he left out the reason why that information came to light. Gemma was happy to share.

“I shudder to call it bonding.” Stiles replied. “But yeah, it’s true. Your embarrassment brings us both a special kind of joy.”

“I hate you.” Jax said petulantly.

“No, you don’t.” Stiles gave his brother a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

He couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face at his brothers pouting. He was glad to have gotten his earlier anger to dissipate, even if for a few moments. He decided against bringing up going to the cemetery, not wanting to ruin the mood. He could take Abel another day if he felt the boy needed the trip to see his mother.

“You going straight back to the house?” Gemma asked as Stiles was preparing to leave.

“No, I gotta go grocery shopping and then pick up Thomas.”

“You would make a great old lady.” She mocked.

“No, I wouldn’t. You can’t be a great old lady until you’ve murder one of your husbands, isn’t that right?” First shot fired and, from the look on Gemma’s face, it was a direct hit. “See you later.”

* * *

 

“Uncle Stiles,” Abel looked up at him with sad eyes. “Just us, remember?”

“I remember. I’m sorry.” He replied as he laid Thomas down in his crib and focused on Abel. “Wendy needed to go to a meeting, so she couldn’t look after Thomas for the whole night.”

“What about Grandma?”

“She’s busy.” To the best of his knowledge she still doing whatever it is she did at Diosa.

“Brooke?”

“I don’t know who that is.” He hadn’t heard that name from anyone.

“She watches us sometimes.” The boy answered. “Can’t Tommy go with her?”

“I don’t know her.” He couldn’t trust someone he didn’t know and he wasn’t going to leave Thomas with her if he didn’t trust her. “I will ask your dad or Wendy about her tomorrow, and then I’ll introduce myself.”

“You said just us.” Abel stomped his foot.

“Buddy,” Stiles sighed as he lifted him into his arms. “I am not going anywhere any time soon. You and I will have plenty of time together.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He rubbed his nephews back in comfort. “Your brother will probably be asleep for a bit. Do you want to go play with some of your toys?”

“Yeah.” The boy agreed, mood seeming to lift instantly at the prospect of playing. “Will you play with me?”

“For a little while.” He started off toward Abel’s room.

They settled on to Abel’s bed with building block, opting for comfort rather than the stability the hard floor would offer. Stiles did not fail to notice how quiet the boy had gotten. It wasn’t odd that he would withdraw into himself, even if he had seemed perfectly fine not long before. Stiles had been the same way after losing his mother.

“Abel,” He tried to pull his nephew back. “Did you have fun at school today?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like your school?” The last place Stiles had wanted to be after his mother had died, outside of a hospital, was school.

“I like it sometimes.”

“Are the kids nice?” Children could be cruel, especially about things they did not understand, like death.

“They say things.” Abel sighed as he looked up at Stiles with sad eyes.

“Like?”

“Stuff about mommy.” The kids who use to bully Stiles made fun of his mom. They had picked up on things they heard from their own parents during his mothers descent into dementia. “Stuff about daddy. Mean things.”

“Kids use to say things about my mom too.” The words that were thrown at him as a child still stuck with him today. “They called her crazy and stupid.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes she forgot things. Sometimes she saw things that weren’t real.” The time she spent in Eichen House wasn’t a secret in Beacon Hills and people loved to talk. “They were wrong. She was not crazy and she wasn’t stupid. She was sick. Whatever the kids are saying about your parents, they are wrong. They’re just trying to be mean.”

“Does my daddy do bad things?” The question caught Stiles off guard, but the look on Abel’s face told him that he’d been thinking about it for a while.

He knew what lies could do to a child. He knew that if you told the wrong lie, the distrust born from it could last a lifetime. So, when Abel asked, Stiles did his best to tell him the truth.

“When he has to.”

“Is he a bad man?” If it were a few years ago Stiles would have said no, Jax was not a bad man, but this wasn’t a few years ago.

“Sometimes.” Jax had always tried to do the right thing. He tried hard to make the right choices, but the road to hell was paved with good intentions. Every attempt at a right choice, at doing the right thing, had landed him on a path of destruction.

“Are you a bad man?” He thought back to his time as the nogitsune and knew he couldn’t say no.

“I was.” Abel didn’t flinch, didn’t even bat an eyelash at Stiles honesty.

“You’re better now?” In his dreams, he wasn’t better. In his dreams, the nogitsune was still gone, but the need for power and strength was not. The need for blood on his hands haunted his dreams every night.

“I hope so.” The fact that his murderous needs were nightmares and not desires, kept him hopeful that he could still be a good person.

“Are you going to do bad things?” Stiles didn’t even have to think before he answered.

“If I have to." He knew that there were situations that would call for violence. He knew both Charming and Beacon Hills were dangerous in their own ways, and that he would eventually succumb to the nature of the beast that lived inside of him. He hoped that whatever damage he caused would be for the greater good and not for the fun of it.

Abel went quiet. He stared at Stiles face, studying him. Stiles didn’t move, he didn’t break eye contact. He let his nephew come to terms with what he admitted. He let him decide if Stiles was someone he could still trust.

“Okay.” They boy replied after a moment, finding whatever he had been looking for on Stiles face. “Grandma and Wendy make dinner when it’s still light out.”

“Um… “ Stiles shook his head at the complete change in topic. He looked out of the window, seeing that it was in fact dark out before replying. “I guess that means you’re hungry. Any ideas about what you want to eat?”

“Pizza.”

“Try again.” They did not spend the afternoon buying groceries to order takeout.

“Ice cream?” Abel flashed him a hopeful smile.

“Something we bought at the store.” That was not a dessert food.

“Everything we got was yucky.” The boy scrunched up his face in disgust.

“Rude dude.” Stiles shook his head in faux disappointment. “Just for that you get pea soup for dinner and salad for dessert.”

“No!” Abel jumped up to his feet quickly, jostling his toys. “Grilled cheese!”

“Okay, grilled cheese.” It was simple and they picked up low-fat cheese while they were out.

“Ice cream for dessert?”

“Don’t push your luck.” Stiles climbed off the bed and headed for the door. “I’ll come get you when the foods ready.”

“’Kay.”

Stiles left Abel to his own devices and decided to check in on Thomas before starting dinner. The infant was sitting upright in his crib, a drool covered fist shoved in his mouth.

“You don’t have a care in the world, do you?” Thomas was, despite earlier reports from Wendy, a happy baby. It showed when he smiled at Stiles around the hand he was chewing on. “I’m going to make sure that smile stays on your face.”

Keeping the boys safe and happy was more than just fulfilling a promise to Tara. The boys were innocent bystanders in every act of violence they bore witness too. They never asked to be born into this life. They deserved a chance at something different or at the very least a choice in how they lived.

The sound of a car door slamming pulled Stiles out of his reverie. He went the window of the nursery, peaking out to see who had dared make such a racket in this neighborhood. There was a black van sitting outside the house. A kidnapping van, Stiles mind supplied, not unlike the ones the club used during runs. He would have written it off as one of the guys doing a drive-by check in, but the men standing outside of the vehicle were definitely not club members.

He was away from the window and at the crib before he even realized he was moving. He made quick work of snatching Thomas up and making his way into Abel’s room. He tried to keep his face passive, void of fear, but the scared look his oldest nephew flashed him told him he failed.

“Abel, I need you to watch your brother.” Stiles laid the infant gently onto the bed. “I need you both to stay here and be quiet.”

“What’s wrong, Uncle?”

“Someone’s going to come into the house.” You could not lie if you wanted the kid to be safe. If you told them it was nothing, then they wouldn’t take you seriously, and would go wandering out on their own. “So, I need you to stay here and not come out unless someone you know opens that door. Do you understand?”

“Is it the person who hurt mommy?” Stiles barely stopped the flinch when he heard the question.

“No, I promise it’s not.” He reassured the boy. “You don’t open the door for anyone you don’t know. You stay here. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand.”

“Good boy.” Stiles ruffled his hair to soothe his worry.

It was almost instinctual to pull out the emergency vial of mountain ash he kept in his pocket, and drop the powder into Abel’s doorway as he made his way out of the room. He hadn’t had the chance to secure the house fully from supernatural entities. Blocking the boy’s door with ash may not protect them from the men coming in, that was his job, but it would protect them should something else come calling. For now, Stiles and his gun, loaded with wolfsbane bullets as an extra precaution, and a quick text to both Jax and Chibs, just to be on the safe side, would have to be enough.

* * *

 

Jax was up and out of his chair before he could even finish reading the message. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Chibs match his movement’s, obviously having received the same distress signal.

“What’s going on?” Bobby asked, standing up dutifully with the others.

“Lin’s guys are at my house.” That is all it takes to get everyone’s asses in gear.

They all knew what was at stake here. They knew that Lin had Tara murdered. They knew that Stiles and his boys were in that house. He knew his brothers would never let his children or his little brother get hurt if they could stop it. It was that knowledge that kept Jax calm enough to ride. It was the only reason he could focus on the road and not what was happening to Stiles, Abel, and Thomas.

* * *

 

“You have got to be kidding me.” Stiles grunted as he took another hit from his assailant. “You are a god damn werewolf.”

“Smart boy.” The man drawled, picking Stiles up by the hair. “You smell like pack. Lin didn’t tell me Teller was like us.”

“He’s not.” The last thing the club needed were werewolves bearing down on them. “That answers the question of whether you were here for me, due to werewolf business, or if you were here for club things.”

“I am here for SAMCRO. Jax Teller, specifically.” The wolf said. “You will just be a nice bonus. Maybe when I’m done here I’ll sniff out your Alpha just for kicks.”

“It’s adorable that you think the club will allow you to leave here alive.” He was testing his boundaries. He had already killed the other man the moment he had entered the house and flashed his glowing eyes toward him. “Now, tell me, are all of Lin’s guys werewolves or just a few?”

“Now, why would I answer questions from dead man?”

* * *

 

There was a hole in Jax’s front door, made from a shotgun blast from the looks of things. The van outside and the sound the weapon must have made told Jax and the others that Lin’s guys didn’t care about a police presence. They just cared about the damage they could inflict.

His body was shaking with unhealthy doses of anger mixed with dread as he walked the path up to his door. He wanted to stop, turn back, let his brothers see the nightmare that was surely waiting for him. He couldn’t do that, though. He had to see it for himself. He had to know if his sons and his baby brother had been taken from him the same way his wife had.

“Jackie.” Chibs voice cautioned him as he pushed through the debilitated front door.

The first thing he saw upon entering his home was a dead body on his living room floor. It was one of Lins guys, he had seen him before, and there was a gunshot wound to the chest. There was something wrong with his face as well, but Jax didn’t have time to think about why.

“What the hell is wrong with his face?” Apparently, Tig didn’t have the seem to have a problem with taking time out of the search to ask questions.

“Doesn’t matter, he’s dead.” Bobby answered.

“Where is everyone?” Chibs asked before they heard a commotion coming from the other side of the house.

“Garage.”

It was a push and shove of bodies moving through the kitchen and narrow hallway of the laundry room, before reaching the attached garage. Stiles was there, and alive, thank god. He was being held against his jeep, one of Lin’s men had hands, clawed hands, wrapped around his throat. Stiles didn’t seem to be paying the man any mind, he wasn’t fighting back, focused more on scrambling for something inside his car.

“Hey!” Happy announced their presence before promptly putting a bullet into the side of the man’s head.

“That’s not going to keep him down.” Stiles coughed, his neck released when the man’s body had jerked away from him.

“He has a bullet in his brain.” Happy grunted. “He’s dead.”

“Stiles...” Jax started for his brother.

“He’s not dead.” Stiles shrugged off Jax’s prying hands. He reached back into his jeep, shoving things back and forth before finding what he was looking for. “Use this.”

“I already put a bullet in his head.” Happy glared at the gun Stiles held out to him. “He’s dead.”

“Humor me.” Stiles shoved the gun at him again, only for Jax to snatch it out of his hands.

“Fine.” Jax fired a shot into the man’s head. “Now he’s really dead.”

“Now he stays dead.” Stiles huffed before leaning against his jeep. “The boys are in Abel’s room. They are safe.”

* * *

 

“You know,” Stiles grumbled in discomfort as he was lowered on to couch. “I thought I would have more than a day before my lives started overlapping. I knew it couldn’t last forever, I’m not that lucky, but come on, one day!”

“What the hell happened?” Alarm was heavy in Gemma’s voice as she stormed into her living room.

“Break in at my house.” Jax replied as he handed Thomas over to Wendy and made his way to his brother’s side.

“Jesus Christ.” Gemma grabbed Stiles chin to get a better look at his bloodied and bruised complexion.

“Ow.” He pulled out of her grasp quickly.

“The boys seem okay.” Nero pointed out as he looked over Abel.

“I would never let anything happen to them.” Stiles sent a withering glare the man’s way.

“You’re going to need stitches.” Chibs commented, poking around the cut on his forehead. “Bulky rings they were wearing do some damage, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He tried not to flinch as the Scot continued his injury assessment.

“He slam your head against the jeep or anything else?” Stiles nodded. “You could have a concussion.”

“Wouldn’t be my first.” Between lacrosse and the supernatural, concussions were becoming a regular occurrence. “It’s wouldn’t even be my first one this month.

“Really?” He should have known that would ping on his brother’s radar. “How did you get the last one?”

“It was a psycho orderly from Eichen House. Don’t worry about it.” He shook his head dismissively before spying something in Tigs hands. “Is that a shell casing from the house?”

“Yeah, why?” Tig twirled it around in his fingers.

“Give that to me.” Stiles opened his palm for Tig to place it.

There was a very distinctive design etched into the casing. It was something Stiles had seen once before not long ago. A skull.

“Son of a bitch.” He bit out as he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, hissing when he jostled his injured ribs.

“What are you doing?” Jax questioned, reaching over to steady him.

“Making a call.” Stiles jerked out of his brothers grip.

“You need to sit still so I can fix you up.” Chibs ordered, a gloved hand trying to keep him in place.

“Let me make my call first and then you can stitch me up.” Stiles growled as he pressed the contact name in his phone list.

_“Hello?”_

“Chris,” He greeted. “Put Araya on the phone, please.”

 _“Stiles?”_ The gruff voice on the other end asked in confusion.

“Yeah. I need to speak with Araya.” He didn’t call to chitchat, and did not feel like staying on the line any longer then he had to. “I’m assuming you’re still with her?”

_“Yes.”_

“Good.” It was good for Scott, considering the deal Argent made. Not so good for Chris himself, seeing as he had to hunt down his own sister. “Put her on the phone.”

 _“What is this about?”_ Chris’s asked in annoyance.

“Just do what I ask, please.” He was nothing if not polite, but his patience was already wearing thin.

 _“Mr. Stilinski.”_ A female voice drawled over the line. _“How nice to hear from you.”_

“I doubt that.” The last two times they had met were not under the best of circumstances, he doubted that she would ever _want_ to hear from him. “I have a question for you.”

_“I’m listening.”_

“Are you selling bullets to your own enemies now?” He questioned nonchalantly, just to unnerve her.

 _“Excuse me?”_ Her previously calm tone became laced with hostility.

“Your enemies, Araya.” He repeated. “The ones that feel the pull of the moon.”

_“What are you talking about?”_

“I’m talking about that fact that the people you enjoy torturing and killing,” He let the disgust he felt for her profession seep into his voice. “Are shooting up houses with your bullets.”

 _“That’s impossible.”_ She insisted.

“I just got my ass handed to me by one and the bullet casings are identical to yours.” He twirled the bullet between his fingers, like Tig had been doing, as he spoke. “So either someone in your group is selling to the enemy or someone wants others to believe you’ve changed sides.”

 _“Where are you?”_ He could hear her moving about on the other end of the line, obviously preparing something. _“Where is this happening? Beacon Hills?”_

“Charming, California.” He answered. “If you want more information than that you will meet me at the ice cream shop on Main at noon tomorrow. Oh, and that information doesn’t come without a price.”

Stiles ended the call before Araya could respond. He let himself fall back against the couch, his head lolling against the cushions. He could feel the eyes of every person in the room on him. He peered his own eyes open slowly to meet their gazes.

“What?” He asked tiredly.

“Who is Araya?”

“An enemy…sort of.” She held them against their will and tortured Scott, so that kept her firmly out of the good guy column. “The guy working with her, Chris, is an ally.”

“You have allies and enemies?” Bobby questioned incredulously. “For what?”

“Dungeon and Dragons.” Stiles quipped. “Doesn’t matter. I will get the info from her. I don’t trust her, though, that’s why I told her to meet us at the ice cream shop. You guys can play my bodyguards.”

“What makes you think she’s going to show up?”

“She’ll show.” He was damn sure that she would be there right on time. “She finds out an animal is trying to sully her family name she will show.”

“You didn’t seem surprised by those…things.” Tig pointed out, referring to the men that had attacked Jax’s house. “What was wrong with their faces?”

“Costume make-up.” He offered, earning a disapproving glare from his brother. “Would you believe me if I said werewolves?”

“No.” They answered simultaneously.

“I have nothing for you then.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Stiles.” Jax growled, apparently not taking that as an acceptable answer.

“Fine! I will make another call.” He sorted through the contacts on his phone again. “Keep your morning open.”

“We do have things to do tomorrow.” Chibs said while dabbing peroxide onto one of Stiles wounds.

“Keep your morning open or remain blissfully ignorant to everything.” He really did not want to have to explain the supernatural to them, ever. “Please, choose option two.”

“Make your call.” Jax nodded toward the phone.

“Son of a bitch.” He groaned in defeat as he put the phone up to his ear.

“I love that the longer Stiles is in Beacon Hills the more like Jax and Gemma he starts to act.” Tig laughed to himself, earning himself a glare from Stiles. “It’s fucking funny.”

“You’re mixing your words up again, Tiggy.” Bobby grumbled. “The word you’re looking for is _terrifying_. It is not funny. It is fucking _terrifying.”_

* * *

 

The wounds weren’t as bad as they could have been. A couple of bruised ribs, a few cuts and bruises here and there, some that required stitches. The handprint marks around his neck were already turning a nice shade of purple when they had put him to bed in Abel's room.

He fell into a fitful sleep quickly after popping a few painkillers that Tig pulled out of nowhere. Jax was keeping an eye on him, settling into the uncomfortable chair in the corner of the room. He wasn’t ready to let Stiles out of his sight just yet, not after what he had seen at his own house.

He didn’t know the full extent of what happened. His brother had taken a beating, he had the wounds to show for it. He knew his brother had taken a life, the dead body that was being buried in Trigger Woods by Happy and Rat could attest to that. His boys had been untouched, there was not a scratch on them, and he knew he had Stiles to thank for that.

As he took in his brothers sleeping form he thought back to what Stiles had said earlier that day, _“there are some things we can’t share.”_ It was the hard truth but fuck if it didn’t hurt to hear. There was a time when Stiles would tell him anything and everything. Over the last two years or so that had stopped. Now Stiles had his own secrets, he had a new weight on his shoulders that hadn’t been there previously.

Where Jax had always tried to keep Stiles out of club business for his own safety, now Stiles was keeping him out of his own personal business, presumably for the same reason. If the secret meant anything, it was that Stiles was getting older, too soon, and becoming the same tired man that Jax saw in the mirror everyday and that broke his heart.

It made Jax yearn for the boy Stiles use to be. The kid who would follow Jax or Ope around TM every summer. Who had crushed on Chibs before he even knew what a crush was. Who, even at his worst, had a smile or laugh waiting to brighten someone’s day.

He hated that Stiles woke up screaming that morning. He hated that Stiles could take a vicious beating and act like it was nothing out of the ordinary. It made him want to ask so many questions that Stiles would probably never give him the answer to. What made Stiles this way? Why did Stiles feel the need to keep certain parts of his life hidden? How did his little brother become this hardened man from the boy he once was?

Most of his brothers had known Stiles since he was a little boy. They had watched him grow up from a toddler to the man he was now. They had all laughed at his awkwardness and his sarcasm. His summer visits were something that brought normality to them. Tonight, they had looked at him as if they had never seen him before.

The cold indifference he had shown in the face of Lin’s men was better fit for Jax’s face than Stiles. The gun in Stiles hand and the blood on his body seemed as if it was made to be there, a perfect fit, and that was fucking terrifying.

There was nothing okay about Stiles reaction. Jax and the others were expecting a freak out, to be yelled at. He knew Stiles had developed a way to compartmentalize, but this was something else entirely. Stiles treated the situation as if it happened regularly, and for the club it did, but for Stiles, it should not have been something to brush off.

“You should get some sleep, baby.” His mother’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“I’m fine here.” He couldn’t sleep now. His mind was busy going over what could have happened at his house. He was working over scenarios where he came home to find his children and brother dead on his kitchen floor beside his wife’s ghost.

He listened to Gemma sigh, so audible in the quiet room. He watched her move from the doorway to Stiles bedside, sitting on the edge, careful not to jostle him. He tensed in his chair, ready to get between them. Gemma and Stiles had never been violent toward one another, but the possibility of someone touching Stiles after what had already transpired that night had Jax on high alert. Gemma didn't move to hurt him, though. She lifted a hand and brushed it through his unruly hair, only to have him jerk away.

“Even in his sleep…” She smiled sadly, Stiles mumbling incoherently but not waking.

It hadn’t always been that way. When Stiles was a child, barely elementary school age, he had been enraptured by Gemma. If she happened to be in the vicinity he would gravitate toward her, big brown eyes looking up at her, hopeful for attention. Gemma had treated Stiles the way she treated anyone else’s children, one’s that had no relation to her. She was outwardly friendly, but detached, always quick to guide Stiles back to Jax’s side.

Watching them now it was almost like they had switched places. Gemma was the one vying for attention while Stiles treated her with nothing but apathy. The only thing they could find a common ground on was the continuous insults they shoved at each other.

Jax liked to watch Stiles and Gemma’s interactions. It was fascinating in the worst way. The way they pushed and pulled against each other. Throwing words back and forth.

They wore their disdain for each other openly. Anyone who spent five minutes in the same room with them could see they had their differences. It was the fact that they honestly cared for each other that they kept hidden.

It was there, though, the underlying love that neither of them dared to show. It was in the glances that Gemma threw in Stiles direction when she thought no one was watching. A look of longing, maybe even some regret. It was in the way Stiles would take a barely noticeable step forward, in front of Gemma, when a new threat entered the room. Shielding her from whatever could cause her harm. They loved each other, sure, but to admit it was to show a card neither of them was willing to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea if a werewolf would survive a regular bullet to the brain on TW, but this is fanfiction so I'm taking some liberties.  
> [TUMBLR](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/)  
> [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/user/SandM1827/)  
> Next Chapter: [Preview One](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/102085358484/mama-gemma-au-nathaniel-teller-11-part-1), [Preview Two](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/102246076464/mama-gemma-au-does-it-get-easier-to-be-without)


	4. Using Words to Cut You Down to Size

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd for now.  
> Page breaks are either a change in location, time, or character POV.  
> Chapter title is from Unbreakable Heart by Three Days Grace.  
> Gif Sets: [Nathaniel Teller](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/102085358484/mama-gemma-au-nathaniel-teller-11-part-1), [To Be Without Her](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/102246076464/mama-gemma-au-does-it-get-easier-to-be-without).

Jax awoke to whimpering, it was soft and pitiful, and way too close to him to be one of his kids. He opened his bleary eyes and saw his bedmates shoulders shaking. He leaned over slowly, careful not to startle him, and saw his brother still sleeping, stuck in a nightmare like the morning before. If this dream ended the same way as the previous one, then Stiles would be screaming soon, probably loud enough to wake the entire house.

“Ssh,” He whispered into his brother’s ear. “You’re safe.”

At some point during the night, the chair in the corner had gotten uncomfortable. He could have gone into the living room, crashed out on the couch, or even slid in beside Wendy in the guest room. He hadn’t been ready to let Stiles out of his sight, so he had crawled into Abel’s twin bed with him, curling his body protectively around him.

Sharing beds wasn’t new. When Stiles would spend time in Charming as a child, he would stay with Jax. He never hesitated to join Jax in his bed if he had a bad dream or wasn’t feeling well. It was a bit different now, however, two grown men did not fit well in a child’s bed.

“Jax,” He heard Chibs voice sound through the door following a brief knock. “Stiles has some visitors.”

“We’ll be out in a minute.” Jax whispered loud enough for the Scot to hear, before leaning closer to the sleeping form beside him. “Stiles, wake up.”

“No.” The younger man mumbled sleepily, burying his head against the arm it was resting on, Jax’s arm.

“Thanks for the drool, bro.” He huffed out a laugh.

“Are you cuddling me?” Stiles shot an indignant look over his shoulder. “We are way too old to be sleeping in the same bed.”

“You are never too old for a good cuddle.” He joked, pulling his brother tighter against him. “Whoever you called last night is here.”

“Yay.” Stiles groaned. “Your introduction to a part of my life I never wanted you to know about.”

“Can’t wait to hear it.” He patted Stiles arm consolingly. “Get up.”

“Seriously, what made you think it was a good idea to climb into a twin bed with me?” The younger man grumbled, purposefully elbowing Jax as he tried to sit up. “If this was about my lack of interest in incest, and this is you trying to get all up on this – “

“Oh, shut up.” Jax shoved at Stiles shoulders, effectively rolling him off the bed.

“Ow!” He squawked in surprise as he hit the floor in a heap of blankets. “I’m injured!”

“Shit, I’m sorry.” The blond leaned over the side of the bed, seeing his brother trapped in the comforter.

“You aren’t sorry at all.” If the smile on Jax’s face meant anything, it was that he was very much not sorry.

“Boys,” It was Gemma outside of the door this time. “You have company.”

“We’re coming.”

“Try not to destroy Abel’s bedroom in your attempts to leave it.” She ordered with a long suffering sigh.

“Yes, Mom.” Jax replied dutifully.

“You are such a mama’s boy.” Stiles snorted, smacking his brother playfully on the arm.

“What’d you have to hit me for?” He bent over further to pop Stiles on the back of the head.

“Why did you have to push me off the bed?” Stiles snatched the arm Jax had hit him with and pulled, bringing his brother to the floor beside him with an audible thump.

“Hey!” Jax shoved his brother again.

“Stop!” Stiles tackled him onto his side.

“You stop it!” Jax grunted, overpowering Stiles until he was on his stomach beneath him.

“What are you five?” The younger man sent an elbow backward into his brother’s gut. “Stop!”

“You started it.” Jax accused, putting him in a headlock.

“I did not!” He denied, struggling in his brothers grasp.

“Boys!” Gemma yelled, entering the room, looking both annoyed and fond as she spotted them both on the floor. “Christ, do I need to put you both in time out?”

“No.” They answered together.

“I could have sworn you were both adults.” She shook her head as they broke apart and untangled themselves from the blanket. “Get up, you have guests.”

“Guests, plural?” Stiles looked at her in confusion. “It’s only supposed to be my dad.”

“Well, he brought someone along. Hurry it up, we’re all waiting on you.” Gemma closed the door behind her as she left the room.

Jax helped Stiles to his feet, feeling slightly guilty when he saw the younger man wince. Their little wrestling match couldn’t have done anything but further the pain he was already feeling from his wounds.

“Your dad is here?” He took stock of all the visible injuries on his brother. “You didn’t happen to pack a turtle neck, did you? To hide some of your bruises?”

“No. It wouldn’t matter if I had, all my stuff is at your house. Why do you think I’m wearing this?” He looked down at the Sons t-shirt Jax had given him the night before.

“We will go pick up your stuff before we head to the ice cream shop later.” Jax decided as he handed a pair of his jeans over to Stiles. The clothes he had been wearing the night before had been covered in blood, and not all of it had been his. “Your dad is going to kill me.”

“He won’t kill you.” Stiles replied as he pulled the too big jeans over his hips. “He’s just going to look very disappointed with you.”

“That’s worse.”

 

* * *

From the looks of things as Stiles and Jax made their way out of the bedroom, the entirety of SAMCRO had already arrived. Everyone had gathered around the dining room table, including Stiles father and Derek Hale, the only ones not present were the kids.

“Stiles,” His dad was up and out of his chair the moment he laid eyes on him. “What happened?”

“I’m fine.” He tried to stay still, not to flinch, when his father ran his fingers over the necklace of bruises around his neck.

“I didn’t ask if you were okay. I asked you what happened.” He moved his hand up to hold Stiles chin, not unlike what Gemma had done the previous night. Holding him in the right position to examine the stitches Chibs put in the night before. “The truth, Stiles.”

“There was a break in at my house.” Jax answered, saving him from coming up with a believable lie. “He was alone with the boys. He should have been protected. It’s on me. I’m sorry.”

“Stiles can take care of himself.” Derek spoke up, earning a few surprised glances.

“' _Stiles can take care of himself_.'” Stiles echoed. “I think that is the nicest thing you have ever said to me. It freaks me out a little bit.”

“You’re a hyperactive spaz.” The wolf responded, not missing a beat. “Feel better?”

“Much.” That got him an eye roll from the other man. “What are you doing here?”

“Your dad asked me to come along.” He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that he had been pulled out of bed at ass o’clock in the morning. “He thought you would need proof, but wouldn’t want Scott here.”

“Why are we letting Beacon Hills worst kept secret out?” His dads eyes found the bruises on his neck again. “Does it have anything to do with the pinpricks from claws, that accompany the bruises around your neck?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me you did not start a pack war.” The exasperation in Derek’s voice was completely unwarranted. Stiles was not the one who constantly got the pack into dangerous situations.

“I didn’t start a pack war.” He didn’t go looking for trouble, it just seemed to find him.

“Pack?” Jax questioned, reminding Stiles that he hadn’t brought his dad here for nothings.

“Right.” He really did not want to have this conversation. “We should sit down.”

He took the open spot between his father and Derek, presumably left open as their way of protectively bracketing him from the people they considered threats. Gemma, Nero, and Wendy were all sitting at one end of the table, Gemma at the head, while Jax took the opposite end of it. The club had surrounded the them, all in their own peaks of awareness from being up so early.

“So,” He drummed his fingers against the table. “Werewolves.”

“Not this shit again.” His brother shook his head in irritation.

“You saw the faces of those guys last night,” Stiles pointed out. “Do you have an explanation?”

“Neolution?” Rat offered weakly.

“Kudos for the Orphan Black reference.” He gave the youngest Son a thumbs up. “But, no.”

“You expect us to believe werewolves?” Bobby said incredulously.

“Seeing is believing.” Stiles turned to Derek. “Ease them into it.”

“Eyes first.” Derek allowed his eyes to flicker to electric blue.

“Contact lenses?”

“Contacts that flash blue on command?” The wolf looked mildly offended before he dropped his fangs.

“Costume teeth?” Tig speculated. “Stiles said it was costume makeup last night.”

“That was a joke.” A joke no one had believed. “Alright, big guy, time to do a beta shift.”

The wolf cracked his neck as the shift began. Stiles watched Derek turn toward Jax, letting the his eyes glow, staying a solid blue rather than flashing back to hazel. He opened his mouth to bare his elongated teeth. An animalistic snarl morphing his face. Were Jax a wolf, he probably would have taken it as a challenge.

“Christ.” The majority of the room collectively jerked backward, looks of shock overtaking their features.

“Wendy,” His father eyed the woman suspiciously. “You don’t seem surprised.”

“He’s not the first werewolf I’ve seen.”

“You couldn’t have spoken up last night?” He could have avoided bringing his dad and Derek to Charming if she had just said something.

“They would have thought I was high.” She had a point there, she wasn’t exactly a reliable source.

“Is there anything else we’re supposed to believe in?” Jax didn’t look the least bit impressed by Derek’s show of dominance, or the wolf features in general. “Abominable snowman, maybe?”

“Kanima’s, kitsune’s, banshee’s.” His father listed off.

“Wendigo’s, druids, were-coyotes,” Derek added. “Were-jaguars.”

“Are you all stoned?” Tig looked to his cup, up to Derek’s still shifted features, then to Gemma. “You slip something into the coffee, darlin’?”

“No.”

“You expect us to believe this?” Nero shook his head as Derek’s face morphed back to its human form.

“You need more proof than this?” He shot a glare at the man. “How about a full shift?”

“Bathroom?” Derek stood up from the table.

“First door on the right.” Gemma gestured toward the hallway.

“Stage fright?” Chibs watched as Derek disappeared out of the room.

“Unless you would like him to strip down right here,” He didn’t try to hide the grimace on his face when a lewd smile graced Gemma’s lips. “The bathroom is probably best.”

“Why does he need to get undressed?”

“So his clothes stay in one piece.” Not that anyone in this room would be bothered by the nudity. “They don’t survive the shift.”

“The shift into what?” Was It really that hard to figure out?

“That.” His dad nodded to the wolf that was stalking toward them from the hall.

“Oh my god.” Rather than jerk back in surprise, the members of SAMCRO jumped to their feet, all reaching for their guns as if they were on attack.

“No! No guns.” Stiles was out of his chair and around the table, standing protectively in front of Derek, his father following suit. The two Stilinski’s shielding the wolf from harm.

“That’s a fucking wolf, Stiles!” Jax’s previously lackluster reaction now replaced with an alarmed one at seeing an animal come out of his mother's bathroom.

“Really?” Stiles exclaimed in exaggerated shock. “I had no idea!”

“Stiles, you can’t just expect them to get it, proof or not.” His father placated him. “I had to be kidnapped and nearly sacrificed before I understood.”

“So, a near death experience should make them believers?” He looked down at Derek. “Try and rip someone’s throat out.”

“Yeah, that will work.” His dad sighed, while Derek looked up at Stiles with irritation before sitting on his haunches.

“Only you could pull off the _‘I’m so done with your shit’_ look in animal form.” Stiles said with an eye roll.

“We got a puppy!” Abel’s excited voice yelled from the hallway.

“No, we did not.” Gemma put a kibosh on that idea as Abel ran to Stiles and Derek. “Abel, don’t go near that thing, please.”

“ _That thing_?” Stiles raised an eyebrow at her before turning to his nephew. “His name is Derek.”

“Hi Derek.” The boy smiled at the wolf, the most honest smile Stiles had seen out of him yet. “I’m Abel.”

The boy held his hand out for the wolf to sniff. Derek, shocking the hell out of Stiles, didn’t bother to scent the child, instead licking a long strip up his palm, causing the boy to shriek in delight. The wolf looked far too pleased with himself as he pulled back from the child.

“Is he yours, Uncle?” Abel asked as he lifted a hand to run it through the wolfs hair.

“Abel, I know this is really awesome,” He chose to ignore the question the child asked. “But, I need you to go back to your room.”

“Can he come with me?” The boy wrapped his small arms around Derek’s neck.

“No, he has to stay with us.” Stiles patted the wolfs head, fully expecting to get snapped at. “It’s just for a little while, then you can come back out and play.”

“Okay.” Abel hugged the wolf again. “Bye, puppy.”

Abel gave Derek a peck on the head before reluctantly retreating to his bedroom. Derek followed relatively the same path to get to the bathroom. He returned on two legs and fully clothed.

“Puppy?” He glared at Stiles. “I always thought you would be the first to make a dog joke.”

“He’s a baby, he can’t be held accountable for what he doesn’t understand.” Calling Derek puppy wasn’t a joke to Abel, it was a child’s reaction to seeing what looked like a dog. “Also, I resent the fact that you think I would stoop to dog jokes.”

“If you are banging the wolf, does that mean you’re into bestiality?” Tig, on the other hand, did not have a problem with dog jokes.

“Oh my god.” Stiles choked on his own spit. “I am not banging the wolf.”

“You did date Malia,” Derek pointed out unhelpfully. “A were-coyote with the ability to fully shift.”

“The werewolf making bestiality jokes about his own cousin...” Stiles shook his head as he sat back down at the table. “That’s in poor taste, don’t you think?”

“Can we get back on topic here?” Jax asked as Derek and his father took their seats. “I don’t think any of us want to hear about Stiles potential bestiality sex.”

“I do.” Tig raised his hand.

“Back on topic.” Stiles agreed, trying to ignore Tigs interest.

“What else can werewolves do?” Bobby asked Derek. “Other than what you have already shown us.”

“I can heal faster. I’m stronger. I also have these.” He let his claws protrude from his fingers.

“He can also brood like a boss.” Stiles joked.

“The guy from last night,” Happy trained his eyes on Stiles. “Why didn’t he slit your throat with his claws or snap your neck? Why beat and strangle you?”

“The more damage inflicted the deeper a message it sends.” Happy should understand that, he was usually the one to dole out the damage to SAMCRO’s enemies. “They weren’t there for me. I surprised them.”

“They decided, since you were at my place, that you were important to me. They wanted to use you to get to me.” Jax looked away, trying to hide the emotion on his face. “To hurt me.”

“It probably would have ended with him ripping out my throat.” It was a common threat made by werewolves. “You guys showed up before he had a chance to finish the job.”

“You reek of Scott and the pack.” Derek said. “There is no way they didn’t smell that on you. Do we need to be worried about Beacon Hills?”

“No.” He shook his head. “It was taken care of.”

“Right.” The wolf glanced at the club in understanding. “And the pack they were from?”

“We’re looking into it.” Jax assured him. “It won’t hit Beacon Hills.”

“I’ll make sure of it.” Stiles knew his declaration would mean more to Derek than Jax’s.

“So, werewolves are real, so is a bunch of other crap I don’t even want to think about.” The blond stated. “How do we kill them?”

“Not every werewolf is evil –“

“I know.” Jax held up a hand to stop Stiles protests. “The ones who attacked you last night were. I need to know how to protect my family.”

“Mountain ash kept them out of the boys’ room last night. I didn’t even know they were werewolves yet,” He had never been so happy to have his paranoia payoff. “I just dropped it without really thinking about it.”

“Instinct.” Derek sent him an approving look. “It’s a good one to have.”

“Mountain ash can act as a barrier against most supernatural things.” Deaton never told him if it worked against _all_ the things that went bump in the night. “Wolfsbane is poisonous to wolves. The bullets in the gun I gave you last night were wolfsbane. Mistletoe works on a few things as well.”

“How do we get those things?”

“I have my own supply in the jeep, but it’s not much.” Certainly not enough to arm every Son with. “The wolfsbane isn’t hard to come by. I can have Deaton send me some mountain ash.”

“I can pick some up from Deaton and bring it down.” Derek offered.

“No.” Once Derek and his father left Charming, they would not be coming back if he had anything to say about it. “I don’t want… Beacon Hills and Charming, they aren’t supposed to…”

“We will have Deaton overnight you some mountain ash.” His father reassured him. “No one else has to come to Charming.”

“Good.”

Stiles let the wave of relief crash over him. He didn't realize how much he needed the reassurance that the pack would stay away from Charming, until that moment. He had only been in Charming for a day and the one thing he had always feared would happen, had. He could only contain it now.

“Mountain ash and wolfsbane, is that all we need?” Jax asked before Thomas’s cries filled the house.

“I’ll get him.” Wendy volunteered. “He’s probably ready for bottle.”

“Abel can come out now, if he wants to.” Stiles said. “We are done with Werewolves 101.”

“There are still things I want to know.” Jax argued.

“You know what you need to know.” He retorted, looking to Wendy again. “Abel can come out.”

“Okay.” She looked to Jax for confirmation before heading down the hall.

“Alright, if the supernatural talk is over,” Bobby stood up. “We’re gonna head out.”

“Okay, we will meet you at Scoops in a little while.” Jax nodded goodbye to his crew.

 

* * *

The Sons filtered out of Gemma’s house rather quickly. Chibs had left grumbling about calling Fiona, because she had some explaining to do about flashing eyes. Happy and Bobby had both accepted the new information rather quickly. Rat and Tig were bouncing ideas about what could be real off each other as they walked out the door. Montez and Quinn didn’t seem to care about it one way or another, making John assume they, like Wendy, had known about wolves before this morning.

“So,” Nero turned to focus on John. “You and Gemma were a thing, huh?”

“No.” He answered while Jax snorted in amusement, earning a raised eyebrow from him. “Behave.”

“Sorry.” Jax laughed behind his coffee cup. “The idea of you and Gemma being a _thing_ is funny.”

“So funny, that Derek and I are going over there.” Stiles gestured toward the living room just as Abel came in. "I do not need to hear anything about what you and Gemma got up to."

“You play with me, Uncle?” He asked holding up a bucket of Lego’s.

“Sure.”

“Where’s the puppy?” Abel looked around the room in disappointment.

“My friend will explain.” Stiles patted Derek on the back.

“You want to take him while I make his bottle?” Wendy held Thomas out to him.

“Yeah.” He took the infant in his arms and cradled him close.

“No.” John repeated to Nero as he watched Stiles and Derek settle into the living room with the boys. “Gemma and I were never a couple.”

“It was one night.” Gemma elaborated.

“You don’t seem like the take home a stranger type.” Nero commented.

“Gemma and I weren't strangers.” Things might have turned out differently if they had been. “We knew each other beforehand. I grew up with her younger brother.”

“I didn’t take you for the jealous type, Nero.” Jax cut in. “You don’t have to worry, John is never going to be competition to you. He doesn’t like Gemma, even in a friendly way.”

“Ouch.” Gemma said flatly.

“Am I wrong?” The blond asked.

“Eh.” He shrugged, but didn’t respond further.

“As titillating as this conversation has been, I need to get to TM.” Gemma started, looking to Nero. “Give me a lift?”

“Yeah.”

John watched the couple disappear out the door. He saw Wendy hand off a bottle to Stiles, before gathering the discarded coffee mugs off the table and begin loading the dishwasher. In the living room, Derek was studiously playing blocks with Abel, as requested, while Stiles fed Thomas. He looked back toward Jax, noting that the man’s eyes were fixated on his children.

“It is never going to get easier to see her in your boys.” The younger man tensed at his words. “You’ll see her looks in Thomas, but her mannerisms in Abel.”

“He’s so young,” Jax shook his head. “There is no way he will remember anything about Tara that isn’t told to him.”

“You would be surprised.” Kids noticed things, even if they don’t remember who they picked them up from. “Stiles got his flailing from Claudia. His almost obsessive need to know everything about every person in his life, that is pure Claudia.”

“I’m pretty sure that last one he gets from you.” Jax turned from the kids to face him, leaving the obvious _'or Gemma'_ unsaid. “Knowing things about people is kind of part of your job description, isn’t it?”

“A few weeks ago, Stiles broke in to the personnel files at the station. He wanted to get more information about my deputies.” After John was shot during Parrish’s scuffle, Stiles decided he had to know everything he could about the people working at the Sheriff’s department. “If I were that nosy, I would have figured out his werewolf extracurricular activities a lot sooner.”

“Isn’t a break in at the station how you met Claudia?” Jax wondered aloud, earning a chuckle.

“Yeah, she was trying to steal her sisters file.” It was the first thing he ever arrested her for, but it sure wasn’t the last.

“It’s been ten years since you lost her, right?” The younger man asked softly.

“Yeah.”

“Does it get easier to be without her?”

“You never get used to it.” He admitted solemnly. “Stiles was valedictorian at his graduation, did he tell you?”

“No.”

“His friend Lydia smacked him across the face when she learned he had stolen the spot from her.” He let out a silent laugh. “Anyway, I was listening to his speech and I was marveling in how, with everything that he had been through, he still managed to get there. I turned to say something to Claudia, I wanted to tell her how god damned proud I was of the boy we raised… but she wasn’t there. Ten years and I still expect her to be standing next to me. I still wake up every morning thinking she will be lying beside me.”

“Something to look forward to.” Jax would have a lifetime of looking for the one person who would not be there anymore.

“I’m sorry about Tara.” He said sympathetically. “She was a good woman, a great mother.”

“She deserved a better life than this.” The guilt was heavy in the younger man’s voice.

“She chose it.” It was easy to forget, considering how tragic her death was, that this was the life she chose to live with Jax. “She chose you.”

“She should have chosen differently.” She had once before, when she left for school, but she came back to Charming and back to Jax.

“She got to be with the man she loved, and she got two great kids out of it.“ He looked to Abel and Thomas. “Do you think, knowing how it would end, that she would have chosen differently?”

“No.” Tara would never have given up the life that led her to her boys. “Would you have, knowing that Claudia would get sick?”

“I wouldn’t change a thing.” His years with Claudia, however few there were, had been the happiest of his life. “Neither would you. You would still choose Tara.”

“Yeah, I would.” There were some things in life that, no matter how awful they turned out, you would not change for anything.

“I saw Tara a few months before she died.” He confessed.

“Were you helping her with the deal she was making?” It would make since, for her to turn to him, a member of law enforcement that she trusted, to help get her and the boys to safety.

“No, I wasn’t helping her.” He would have if she had ever asked. “She was helping me.”

“With what?” Jax looked at him with confusion written all over his face.

“Stiles.” He tilted his head toward his son. “He was having some health problems. The doctors ran some tests, they said he was dying.”

“What?” Jax’s voice shook, he started to stand, presumably to rush over to his brother, but John grabbed is wrist, forcing him to remain at the table. “He’s dying?”

“No. It was a mistake.” Relief overtook the younger mans features as he settled back into his chair. “They thought it was fronto-temporal dementia.”

“That’s what Claudia died of.”

“Yes.” He swallowed against the lump that formed in his throat. “There was no blood between them, no way for her to pass it on to him. I thought he was safe from it. But, there was an MRI scan and a doctor that was telling me I was going to lose my son the same way I lost my wife. It was my worst nightmare.”

“How did Tara help you?” They both knew that dementia didn’t just go away, no matter how much medication was given.

“I brought Stiles and Claudia’s MRI scans to her. I prayed that she could tell me that the other doctors were wrong.” She had lost her job at St. Thomas by then, just after her time in jail. “And she did.”

“I don’t understand.” Jax prompted him to explain further.

“Stiles and Claudia’s scans were identical, and that is impossible.” The confusion on the other man’s face amplified. “The hospital said it was a glitch in the machine.”

“That is one hell of a glitch.”

“Yeah, it was.”

 

* * *

Stiles looked over toward the dining room, seeing his father and brother engrossed in conversation, before turning his attention to Derek. The wolf was quietly building things using blocks with Abel, while Stiles fed his youngest nephew.

“I need a favor.” He said quietly, so no one could overhear. “A big one.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t say _okay_ until I tell you what the favor is.” He wasn’t going to let the older man say yes before he knew what he was getting into. “You have every right to say no.”

“Just tell me.” Derek ordered, not letting his attention stray from what he was making with Abel.

“A friend of mine needs a safe place to go for a few days.” Only until he could figure out what he was actually wanted to do.

“Your friend is in trouble?”

“He’s a member of Jax’s club – former member. They want him dead.” They could have chosen to excommunicate him, instead they voted Mayhem. “If they find him they will kill him. If he gets out of Charming, stays away from the other Charters, then he gets to live.”

“Who else is looking for him?” The wolf obviously picked up on what Stiles was leaving out.

“The Sheriff is getting ready to put out an APB on him.” He could thank a late night text from Wayne for that information. “They only want him for questioning.”

“He can stay at my loft for a few days.” Derek agreed. “But you have to tell your dad.”

“I plan to.” He had every intention of stopping to see his dad when he left Juice in Beacon Hills. “I’ll drop Juice off at your place tonight.”

“I can’t pick him up?” Even if Derek and his dad had driven separately, there was no way Juice would get into the car with him.

“No, he’s twitchy right now.” Anyone he didn’t know would be seen as a threat. “I have to bring him to you, show him I trust you, that way he will trust you.”

“Anything else I should know?”

“He’s fragile.” Possibly suicidal. “He can’t be left alone. Being around the pack will be good for him.”

“We will take care of him.”

“Thanks.”

 

* * *

There wasn’t much damage done to the outside of the house, aside from the gunshot to the door. Inside, the hallway to the kid’s rooms had remained untouched, nothing out of place. The rest of the house was a different story entirely. There was broken glass scattered about the floor, from picture frames and what Jax assumed used to be a vase.

Stiles had led the attackers away from Abel and Thomas, from what Jax could see. His brother had time to text both he and Chibs, and to take Thomas to Abel’s room for safe keeping. He had obviously assessed the situation and decided to take the men head on.

From the looks of things, Stiles got the first shot off, hitting one of wolves, and was attacked by the second before he could get another shot off. The gun had been knocked out of his hands. Jax could see it lying discarded by the entertainment center.

“Why didn’t the cops show up?” Stiles asked from the entryway as Jax lent down to retrieve the colt 1911 from the floor. “Despite your reputation, I would think they would still be called, especially given the racket we made last night.”

“Chibs gave the Sheriff a call before we left for Gemma’s.” Stiles shot him a confused look. “She’s going to come talk to us about it at the ice cream shop later.”

“She’s on your payroll.” The younger man shook his head with barely concealed disgust.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Stiles grumbled. “I’m going to get my stuff and take the jeep to the shop. I’ll meet you there.”

Jax dropped back onto this couch with a sigh, taking in the ruins of his house while his brother walked away.

He bought this house with Stiles in mind. He had been living at the clubhouse before that, not wanting to bunk with his mom and Clay. When John had offered him a place in Stiles life, with the possibility of Stiles visiting him in Charming, he knew he had to find somewhere to call home.

Tara had helped him pick it out, not long before she left for school. Three bedrooms, two baths, a nice backyard, and it wasn’t in the shady part of town. It was downright respectable.

Thomas’s nursery used to be Stiles room. He had gone a few towns over to buy furniture for it, not wanting to deal with the looks from people in Charming. He didn’t need the person at the cash register to think he had knocked up some poor girl. It never really stopped the rumors, though. He was pretty sure his neighbors still believed Stiles was his son and that he had limited visitation.

The house was once filled with a child’s laughter, with small feet that hit the ground running every morning, during their visits. He bought the house with the most innocent intentions. It was tainted now. Tara’s blood had joined Half-Sak’s on his kitchen floor. The blood may not be there anymore, but it was all Jax saw when he entered his kitchen. The same way he would now see his brother, beaten and being strangled, whenever he needed to go into the garage

Those images would never leave him, not as long as the house still stood. He wanted to burn it down. Fill it with kerosene, light a match, and watch the flames lick away at every memory, good or bad.

 

* * *

Jax headed to the ice cream shop after ripping himself away from his house. When he got there Stiles was behind the counter, talking animatedly with Chucky about one thing or another, while the rest of the Sons had scattered themselves around the general area.

He made a move to toward the counter, to question his brother about who they were supposed to be meeting this afternoon, when an older Hispanic woman walked through the door, a man trailing behind her. While her male companion stopped in the middle of the shop and looked toward Stiles, the woman didn’t stop until she got to him.

“Jackson Teller,” So, she knew who he was. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Do I know you?” He offered his hand to her in introduction.

“Araya Calaveras.” Araya was the name of the woman Stiles had spoken to the night before. The last name, Calaveras, struck a personal chord for Jax.

“Calaveras, as in the Lodi MC?” It had to be a coincidence. There was no reason for Stiles to know someone from another club.

“My husband started that charter.” She acknowledged. “My nephew, Hector Salazar, took it over after my husband’s death. If I’m not mistaken, you are the one who killed Hector.”

“He kidnapped my wife.” Jax’s hand instinctively reached for his gun.

“I’m not here for retribution.” She assured him. “If I wanted it, I would have done it years ago. Hector was an idiot, trying to patch over to the Mayans, ruining what my husband built. Had you not put him down, I would have.”

“If you are done intimidating my brother,” Stiles appeared beside him. “Why don’t we take a seat?”

“Fine.” The man who had accompanied the Calaveras spoke up. “Do you want to take this somewhere more private, Stiles?”

“No, I chose here for a reason.” Stiles took a half step in front of Jax, as if to shield him from the outsider’s views. “Maybe you should take a walk, Mr. Argent.”

“Excuse me?” Argent looked baffled by the suggestion.

“I invited Mrs. Calaveras, “ Jax listened to his brothers voice harden an increment, but the man he was speaking to didn’t seem to notice, and if he did, he didn’t care. “This has to do with her family, not you. If she wants you to know what it’s about, then I’m sure she can tell you later.”

“Wait outside Christopher.” Araya ordered. “You don’t need to be here.”

“Does Scott know about this?” Argent questioned Stiles, frustration lacing his voice.

“It has nothing to do with the pack.” Stiles shrugged. “If you feel the need to call and tell him, that is your decision.”

 

* * *

Stiles watched as Chris walked out of the shop with a huff, knowing he would be receiving a call from Scott later. He flashed Araya a polite smile and gestured to a booth. He slid in the middle, keeping anyone from joining him. The club took that as a sign to crowd themselves into the booth directly behind him, sitting on the table itself if they had to.

“This relationship between you and Chris can never work.” Stiles pointed out as Araya took a seat across from him. “There is no trust. You know he would let Kate go if you got to close. He knows if he did let you handle Kate, as soon as you are done with her, you would be back in Beacon Hills.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“He won’t lose what’s left of his family. Kate is bloodthirsty, a murderer, but she is still his sister.” She would be Chris’s downfall in the end. “And you want to keep him close, so you’ll let him run you around, and you will use him as long as you have him.”

“You are a very smart boy.” She took a sip of the coffee Chucky placed in front of her. “Let’s talk about why I drove all night to get here.”

“Okay.” He pulled the shell from his pocket, dropping it onto the table. “Two wolves attacked me last night. They were firing those from their guns.”

“Wolves that shoot guns.” Araya studied the casing. “They do look like mine.”

“They are yours.” They were identical to the ones that were found at Derek’s loft a few weeks ago. “They still relied on their weapons, which means they were recently turned.”

“Werewolves who do not want to be werewolves. They fall back on what they knew as humans, like Kate did.” The older woman surmised. “Did they seek you out personally? If they were hunters before they were bitten, they would never have gone after a human, pack or not. It’s against the code.”

“Tell that to Gerard Argent.” The old man had no problem kidnapping and beating him to hell, just as Araya didn’t have a problem locking him and the pack up. “They weren’t looking for me. It was a club beef.”

“Who did they work for?”

“Henry Lin.” Jax answered for him. “Does that name mean anything to you?”

“I’m aware of who he is.” She admitted. “I have no dealings with him, business or otherwise.”

“What about the MC?” Stiles asked. “Does your club do business with his organization?”

“Not under my orders.” It didn’t seem like a stretch for them to make deals under her nose. MC’s didn’t work like hunters did. While she may lead her group of hunters, to the club she would be nothing more than an old lady. “You gave me the name of the people using my bullets, though you said it wouldn’t come without a price. What do the Sons of Anarchy want?”

“They want to buy a large quantity of wolfsbane bullets from you.” Stiles informed her.

“We do?” Jax looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“You do. The information you were given about Henry Lin will count as partial payment, they will give you the other half in cash upon delivery.” He did not miss the annoyed but impressed look his brother gave him.

“Christopher has a storage unit in Beacon Hills. We can have the bullets delivered as soon as we work out a price.” Araya turned her head up to look at Jax, knowing who would be paying her.

“Good.” Stiles nodded. “You two work out the details.”

Araya left soon after they had hashed out a deal, with promises of the first shipment arriving the next morning. Argent never came back in, but he shot Stiles a disapproving look through the window, as if he holding this meeting without Scott’s approval was a betrayal.

He hoped to be to take his own leave after they had. He needed to get up and go before Jax or the others started asking questions he did not want to answer. He did not want to go deeper into what he had done in the last few years, about exactly how different things had been since he and Scott went looking for a dead body in the woods.

“Sit back down.” Jax commanded as he tried to get out of the booth. “The Sheriff will be here soon.”

“You don’t need me for that.” He may be the only witness to the break in, but Jax could handle the cops.

“Stiles,” Jax sighed, forcing Stiles back down in his seat and joining him in the booth, making it impossible for him to leave unless he wanted to climb over the table. “Werewolves?”

“We had that discussion already.” He hung his head, looking down at his fingers, fighting the urge to count them.

“You cut it short and there are still things I would like to know.” Jax started. “What does Scott have to do with all of this werewolf crap? Your friend Derek and the Argent guy both brought him up.”

“He’s the Alpha.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It’s werewolf hierarchy. Alpha is top dog, they’re stronger and faster, and they can turn people.” Stiles explained. “There are also beta’s, like Derek. Omegas are lone wolves and tend to go feral. The lone wolf dies while the pack survives.”

“Calaveras and Argent, what are they?” Bobby inquired.

“Hunters.” They were the bad guys. “They and their families hunt werewolves. They are supposed to follow a code but most of them don’t. Argent’s family didn’t, but he and his daughter did.”

“Scott’s the alpha, he can change people,” Jax summarized. “Did he change you?”

“I wouldn’t be black and blue right now if he had.” His wounds would have healed earlier. “I’m human. I don’t want to be a werewolf.”

“Two werewolves and a human, that makes a pack?”

“There are more than three of us.” Though, originally, it had been three of them, he, Scott, and Allison. “Beside’s Scott and Derek we have another wolf, Liam. Scott’s girlfriend, Kira, is a kitsune, which is a fox. Malia is a coyote. Lydia’s a banshee. My dad and Melissa are human, but both pack. Deputy Parrish is kind of pack-adjacent, and we’re not quite sure what he is.”

“How long have you been running around with werewolves?”

“Since sophomore year.” It felt like it had been longer.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t even tell Dad until people were being sacrificed by a darach.” There was no way he was going to call up Jax just to blurt out that mythical creatures were real. “And, not to quote Wendy here but, you would have thought I was high.”

“I do not appreciate you keeping those kinds of secrets from me. I feel like I don’t even know you.” The sadness in his brother’s voice made him clench his eyes closed.

“Maybe you don’t.” He forced himself to look at his brother. He tried not to jerk away from the soothing hand he felt on the back of his neck, Bobby’s hand, if he were to guess by who was sitting directly behind him in the booth. “Can we talk about this stuff later?”

“Okay.” His older brother nodded, leaning over and placing a gentle kiss to the side of his head.

 _Okay_ was Jax’s way of telling him that he would drop it for now. He was going to wait Stiles out, get him alone and comfortable, somewhere he felt safe, and then he would start asking questions. The very idea of talking about it with Jax brought on a wave of unpleasant feelings.

“Why do I need to talk to the Sheriff?” He looked toward the door, debated going over the table, wondering how far he could get before Jax caught him. “I have things to do.”

“Abel is at school, and Thomas is fine with Wendy and Brooke.” Jax explained. “What do you have to do?”

“Abel should be out of school by now.” He checked his watch, noting that Abel would have been out of class for an hour and a half already.

“You are not his babysitter. The boys have been doing perfectly fine without your help.” Stiles couldn’t hold back the flinch at that. “I didn’t mean it like that. The kids are happier with you then they have been with the girls. I’m glad that you want to be there for them, but you don’t have to be there every second.”

“I have things to do that don’t involve your children.” He grumbled, panic dissipating into irritation. “Can I go?”

“Where are you going?” Stiles rolled his eyes at the question.

He couldn’t be truthful about it. He couldn’t come right out and say he was helping Juice get out of town tonight. It was something he had intended to do that morning, but that was before he found himself introducing SAMCRO to werewolves and holding meetings with the Calaveras. He was behind schedule and his excuse for leaving wouldn’t hold up anymore.

Despite his lack of excuse, he still hoped to make a quick exit. He only had a limited amount of time to get Juice and leave town. He had planned to get to Beacon Hills, drop Juice off, inform his father of the situation, and drive back before it got too late. His plans came to a stuttering halt when a woman in a police uniform came stalking into the shop, an angry scowl on her face. Charming’s new sheriff, Stiles presumed.

“Teller.” Her overly authoritative voice rubbed Stiles the wrong way.

“This about the break in at my house?” Jax asked, throwing his arm over the back of his seat, looking for all the world relaxed as can be.

“What can you tell me?” She slid in to the booth, taking the spot Araya had left empty.

“Nothing.” Jax shrugged. “I wasn’t there, but my little brother was.”

“Your little brother?” Jax titled his head toward Stiles. “Name?”

“Nathanial Teller.” It slipped off his tongue so naturally you would think he used it every day. “And you are?”

“Lt. Jarry.” She eyed him critically. “You have an ID to go with that name?”

“Sure.” He grabbed the correct license from his wallet and slid it over to her. “Is it standard procedure to question a witness to a break in at an ice cream shop? And, correct me if I’m wrong, aren’t you supposed to, at the very least, visit the crime scene?”

“Run a name for me,” Jarry spoke into the radio pinned to her uniform. “Nathanial Thomas Teller.”

“DOB is April 8th, 1993.” He supplied helpfully, a challenging smile gracing his face. “The worst you are going to find on me is public intoxication.”

“Nathaniel Teller was picked up for public intoxication this past April.” A voice from the radio said. “Before that there is a disorderly conduct charge from four years ago.”

“Would you like to elaborate on the disorderly conduct charge?” Jarry questioned him.

“It says that Teller was picked up with another young man. They were caught having sexual intercourse on the bleachers of the football field at Charming High.” The woman on the radio responded before Stiles could.

“Caught having sex in a public place, where minors frequent,” The sheriff glared. “And you only got a disorderly conduct charge?”

“I was a minor myself and it was my first offense.” He was going to kill Juice for putting him in this position. “It was just some teenage exhibitionism. It was after hours. The janitor caught us on his way out and called the cops.”

“Uh huh.” She did not believe a damn thing coming out of his mouth. “You live in Charming, Mr. Teller?”

“Nope.” He never had and he never would. “I got in to town night before last.”

“The reason for your visit?”

“My sister-in-law was just murdered.” It wasn’t hard to figure out why he would show up now. “I’m here checking on my brother and nephews.”

“Were you close to Tara Knowles?” He didn’t understand why she was asking, and from the way Jax tensed he didn’t either.

“Are you close to your family?” He shot back, receiving a confused look in return.

“I- I don’t have any family.” He didn’t miss her hesitation, or the way her eyes flickered to where Chibs was.

“Why would it matter to Chibs if you did?” Her perplexed look deepened. “Would it somehow jeopardize your chances with him if you did?”

“What? No. My personal life is none of your business.” She shook her head, trying to regain whatever composure she thought she had lost. “We are here to talk about the break in at your brother’s home.”

“What is there to talk about? You already know it was club retaliation.” The only people, who were stupid enough to break in to the President of the Sons of Anarchy at home, had to be an enemy. “On the report, if you file one, will say it was teenagers getting their rocks off.”

“Will it?”

“My brother is paying you a lot of money to make sure of it.” He snatched his ID back from her while she turned her outrage to Jax. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”

Jax looked at him in disbelief, but after some nudging, he let Stiles out of the booth. He didn’t wait to say any goodbyes, he walked out of shop without a glance back. On his way to the car, however, he did realize he had a follower.

“That was bold.” Chibs announced when they reached the jeep. “When we make a deal with someone, especially one in her position, discretion is key. How did you know she was on the take?”

“Lucky guess.” If she wanted people to believe she was on the straight and narrow she would need to do a better job. “It’s not like I was handing out new information to anyone. Everyone in that shop knew she was dirty.”

“Why did you ask her about her family?”

“Because she asked me about Tara.”

“You’re lying.” Chibs tilted his head to the side, studying him.

“What if I am?”

“Two days and you are already playing an angle.” The Scot deduced. “I already know you’re helping Juicy. I saw him yesterday. I know about the APB, but even that doesn’t explain your beef with Jarry.”

“I don’t like dirty cops.” It didn’t help that her mere presence unsettled him. “You want to hook up with her, because you need someone to warm your bed since Juice is gone, that is your prerogative. I don’t have to buy into her _deal with the devil for the sake of the town’s people_ routine.”

“We need her on our side.” Chibs insisted. “There is nothing more to it than that. You don’t trust her, that’s fine, neither do we, but you can’t egg her on.”

“I’ll stay away from her.” He intended to stay as far away from as he could. “I didn’t come here to stir shit up. I came to make sure that Jax and the boys were okay.”

“We both know you’re a shit starter by nature, don’t try lying to me.” The older man chuckled. “We’re all glad you are here, brother.”

“Look, I gotta go.” He gestured to the jeep. “I’ll see you later.”

“Aye.” Chibs nodded. “Oh, and it was after his last stint inside.”

“What was?”

“When Juice put the disorderly conduct charge to your record.” Stiles narrowed his eyes at the older man. “It was after he and the others got out of jail.”

“Why would he add that?” The deal was to put public intoxication after he turned twenty-one. There was never supposed to be anything about having sex on the bleachers.

“Gotta keep you on your toes.” Chibs smiled. “It was my idea. I was trying to lift the boys spirits and messing with you does the trick.”

“You are an asshole.”

 

* * *

Chibs watched Stiles pull out in the jeep. The Sheriff's cruiser left not long after. He walked back into the shop, sat across from Jax in the booth while the others scattered into the back like he had given them some kind of signal.

“You catch Stiles before he left?” Jax asked, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Aye.” He nodded. “Boy ain’t right.”

“I didn’t know.” Jax shook his head. “I didn’t know he was valedictorian, or that he was involved with werewolves. The doctors told John that Stiles was dying, but no one told me…”

“You couldn’t have known if he didn’t tell you.” Chibs said consolingly. “You’ve had a lot going on, he knows that. He probably didn’t want to worry you.”

“I gotta talk to him.” Jax decided. “I just have to find the time.”

“Preferably, before he insults another one of our new friends.” Chibs suggested.

“Yeah, we can’t afford to lose anymore allies.”

 

* * *

Stiles spent the drive to the apartment trying to ignore the ugly emotions settling on his mind.

Anger. Distrust. Fear.

He was angry with Araya for not keeping better track of her bullet supply and forcing Stiles to bring her to SAMCRO’s doorstep for information. Distrust of Jarry, well-placed distrust, if his instincts were anything to go by, at how quickly she aligned herself with the club. The most dominant feeling was fear. He was terrified that Jax would push to know more about Stiles other life. That he would push for the truth and Stiles would reveal things that could destroy his entire relationship with his brother.

All of it was hitting him at once and refused to clear by the time he had parked the car and climbed the steps. He slammed through the door, silently cursing Juice for leaving it unlocked.

“Stiles?” Juice was in front of him, hands in the air like he was afraid a touch might spook him.

“Why wasn’t the door locked?” It came out harsher than he had intended, but the older man didn’t seem to mind. “How does an unlocked door keep you safe?”

“I thought you would be here earlier. I left it unlocked for you.” He made a show of turning the lock now. “What happened to your face?”

“I was born this good looking, baby.” He quipped with a sarcastic smile.

“That is true, but you weren’t born with those bruises.” The older man looked over the visible wounds on Stiles face and neck.

“I got my ass kicked.” He told him.

“Club shit?” Juice guessed.

“Well, my own shit didn’t follow me down from Beacon Hills.” It was obviously club related, no one from Beacon Hills would come all the way to Charming to beat him up.

“You want to go into more detail about what happened?”

“You want to tell me why you went to see Chibs yesterday?” He let a hint of disapproval line his voice. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I had to see him.” Juice insisted. “I had to know if there was a way to get back into the club.”

“What did he say?” He could pretend he didn’t already know the answer.

“He told me to kill myself.”

“He didn’t mean it.” Chibs would never wish that on someone he cared for. “He is angry and hurt. He’s lashing out.”

“He hates me, because I betrayed the club – “

“You betrayed him.” He felt horrible for putting the stricken look on the other man’s face. “He loved you. He tried to help you after your suicide attempt. He wanted you to trust him. If you had gone to him before everything had gotten out of hand, things might have turned out differently.”

“I should have told him, or any of them.” It could have helped his club standing if he had admitted what he did. “What I did – “

“I don’t want to know what you did to the club.” He _couldn’t_ know. “What you did _with_ or _for_ the club, sure, but I cannot know what you did _to_ the club.”

“You don’t want to know?” Juice looked at him in surprise. “The person who always knows everything, doesn’t want to know?”

“I can’t know.” He corrected.

“You know everyone’s secrets, from the little ones that don’t mean anything to the big ones that can get people killed.” The older man said. “I could never figure out how you knew what you know. I always kind of thought that you wrote them all down in to keep them straight.”

“I know everyone’s secrets, because none of you are as sneaky as you like to think you are.” He never actively went searching for the information he had. “All I do is listen. I don’t need to write them down to keep all the secrets straight, I have a good memory for that. But, there are some secrets that I can’t hold.”

“I will keep this secret to myself.” Juice agreed. “Why are you in such a bad mood today?”

“I’m not in a bad mood.” He was not pleased with the change in subject. “I’m fine.”

“You and fine are like me and being alone,” Juice compared. “It’s not a good combination.”

“I had to tell everyone about werewolves this morning.”

“That must have been fun.”

“Yeah, it was a real thrill. Wendy was like you, she had already known.” Juice had met a few wolves during his time hitchhiking from Queens to Charming as a teenager. “The others thought we were insane, until Derek shifted for them.”

“It’s hard to remain ignorant when you see it live and in person.” Stiles had accepted it before Scott had ever shifted in front of him.

“That is true.” He agreed. “Speaking of Derek, he said you could stay with him for a while.”

“I don’t know him.” Juice tensed. “You’ve mentioned him before, but I don’t know him.”

“I trust him and that has to be enough for now.” Juice had to go to Derek’s. He couldn’t hide out in Wendy’s apartment forever. “You can’t be alone, with Derek and the pack you won’t be.”

“I don’t want you to involve your friends.”

“Will you run? Will you get the hell out of California?” He had be at least two hundred miles from any charter to be safe. “Will you go far enough away that the Sons of Anarchy can’t find you?”

“They are my family, Stiles.” It always came down to family to people like them. “I know they don’t want me anymore, but the thought of leaving them…”

“You don’t have a choice.” He had to lose them to save himself. “What options do you think you have?”

“Not any good ones.” Juice admitted.

“You would never run.” He would never stray far as long as he considered SAMCRO his family. “You will never leave this hell.”

“I can’t.”

“You don’t come out of this whole.” They both knew it. “You lose your family, your freedom, or your life.”

“I know.” Juice nodded. “I’ll stay with your friend until I figure out if my freedom or life means more.”

“I’ll talk to Jax.” He said to himself. “I’ll get him to change his mind.”

“No, you won’t.” Juice snapped. “I don’t want you involved in that.”

“I’m already involved!” Panic shot through him, causing him to begin pacing. “There is something I can say to him – “

“You are helping me out of town because you are my friend.” The older man stood, grabbing a hold of Stiles shoulders to keep him stationary. “You don’t want to know what I did. You want to remain objective. If you go to Jax and ask for my life, it all changes. You will be getting involved in club business and you have never wanted that.”

“Juice, if can do something, then I have to.” His voice broke as he continued. “I am tired of watching people die. I can do something, I know I can.”

“It is my life. It is my choice what I lose.” As of late Juice hadn’t been making the best choices. “My family, my life, or my freedom, right?”

“You already lost them, Juice.” He had to understand that he only had two choices. His family was gone, no matter how hard he held on. “That choice was taken out of your hands when Jax decided you couldn’t be trusted. Your life and your freedom are all that you have. You run or you die.”

“It’s my choice.” He repeated. “You have to let me make it.”

“You’ll make the wrong one.”

“Stiles…”

“If you go to Beacon Hills, I have to tell my dad everything.” It was the stipulation Derek gave him, and the one he gave himself. If Beacon Hills was as far as Juice would go then he had to know that. “I got him fired once for keeping secrets, I can’t do that again. I cannot leave you there without him knowing, especially if you have an APB out on you.”

“There’s an APB?”

“Not yet, but the San Joaquin DA is pushing for one according to Unser.” He was sure Jax was using Lt. Jarry to get it squashed, so they could find Juice themselves. “That is why I have to tell my dad you’re going to be in town. You understand, right?”

“Yeah.” Juice confirmed. “He’s not my biggest fan, but I trust him. He’s a good cop, does his job to the letter.”

“I’m counting on that.” His father may not like Juice, but he would give him a fair shake.

“Why? What are you planning?”

“Not sure yet.” He had more than one plan he had to get working on. “I’ve got too much crap turning in my head right now to plan anything.”

“Why don’t we take a nap?” Juice proposed. “I can go to your friends place tomorrow.”

“If you are trying to get me into bed Mr. Ortiz –“

“You are exhausted.” He interrupted the innuendo. “You got your ass kicked last night. All the shit that’s gone down today has gotten to you. You’re drained, I am too. Let’s go to sleep.”

“Okay.” Stiles agreed. “But if Jax calls, you have to pretend to be giving me a blow job. He’ll think I took off to hook up with some hottie.”

“Who says I’ll have to pretend?”

“I do. We’re both emotionally compromised given our current circumstances. Consent would be hazy at best.” He wouldn’t let them use each other sexually to forget about everything else.

He let Juice lead him into the bedroom, not bothering to turn on any lights as they entered. He dumped his cell phone and wallet on the side table before slipping off his shoes. They both left their jeans on, knowing that at any point, someone could come in, and they would have to book it out of there quickly.

“You want to smoke before lying down?” Juice asked, grabbing a joint off the table on his side of the bed.

“No, let’s just sleep.” He pulled the comforter back and climbed into bed.

He watched Juice strip off his t-shirt and fought the sudden urge to yank the other man onto the bed beside him. To kiss him and fall into the warm heat his body. He let the urge go as Juice lay down beside him. He had already denied that anything would happen between them tonight. It was poor timing, as it always was with them.

“It could never work between us.” He admitted with sadness in his voice.

“What makes you say that?” The other man turned on his side to face him.

“We’re too alike. I’m a hyperactive spaz and you flush women’s underwear down the toilet.” Stiles laughed as Juice flushed red with embarrassment. “We were both the comic relief.”

“We’re sure as hell not that anymore.”

 

* * *

Jax looked at the massacre that Diosa had become. He had to tear his eyes away from Colette, seeing so many different faces that weren’t hers. He moved into the kitchen, the only place that seemed clean of bloodshed. He let himself collapse into a chair, running a tired hand over his face.

“Lyla’s still at Red Woody.” Bobby reassured him. Lyla always came to check on the girls before she went home. “She’s safe.”

“Good.” He could take solace in the fact that he hadn’t gotten his best friends wife killed.

It could have been different. Lyla could have just as easily been lying on the floor full of bullets. Last night it could have been Stiles, had he been less adept in violent situations. It had been Tara, not long ago, on his kitchen floor.

“Did Rat get Tig and Venus to Gemma’s for the night?” He hoped nothing had happened to them en route.

“Yep.” Bobby nodded. “Only Wendy and the kids are there, no Gemma.”

“Stiles?”

“I don’t think anyone has seen or heard from him since he left the shop earlier.” So, Stiles was MIA.

“I’ll call Gemma. You call Stiles.” Jax ordered. “He goes straight to moms. Tell him Tig is hurt and needs help.”

“You think he’ll ignore me if I just tell him to head back to Gems?” Bobby questioned.

“That shit this afternoon put him on edge.” The meeting with the Calaveras had made him extra defiant when faced with Jarry. “He won’t go back because you tell him to. You have to give him a reason. You tell him what happened to Tig and he’ll come. His protective instinct outweighs everything else.”

“Alright.” The older man pressed the call button on his phone.

 _“Hello?”_ The groggy voice answered on the other end.

“I need you to get to Gemma’s.” He could practically hear the protests Stiles was about to kick up before he continued. “Tig was shot, he’s okay, but he needs some help. You up for it?”

_“I’ll head over there now.”_

“Thanks, kid.”

 

* * *

“What happened?” Stiles asked as he rushed into the house.

He saw Tig lying on the couch, arm curled over his stomach protectively. A woman Stiles didn’t know was beside him while Rat Boy sat in the arm chair at his side.

“Bobby said you were shot.” He did a once over of Tig, making sure the gunshot was the only thing wrong with him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, kid, I’m fine.” The older man assured him. “Have you met Venus? Baby, this is Jax’s little brother.”

“Hi, I’m Stiles.”

“Venus Van Dam.” She smiled at him in greeting. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine.” He returned her smile before his attention was on Tig once more. “Why did Jax want you here?”

“We were at the ice cream shop,” Rat answered for him. “But it blew up.”

“The ice cream shop did what?”

“Everyone is fine.” Tig said quickly. “Jax and the others headed to Diosa. They wanted us in groups, to make sure everyone was safe.”

“Where are the kids? Wendy and Gemma?”

“Wendy is keeping the boys in the bedroom.” Rat nodded his head toward the direction of the room. “Gemma’s on her way here now.”

“Is someone with her?” He cursed himself for letting concern leak into his tone.

“Everyone else is with Jax.” Rat shrugged like it was no big deal. “He told me to stay here and keep you all safe.”

“You’re it?” Stiles asked incredulously.

“For now.”

“Great.”

He shook his head in disbelief and took off down the hallway. He reached into the closet at the end of the hall, grabbing the hatbox from where Gemma kept it. Rather than going straight back into the living room, he stopped off in Abel’s room.

“Uncle Stiles!” Abel gave him a toothy grin.

“Hey buddy,” He waved at the boy before turning to Wendy. “I need to talk to you.”

“Okay.” She nodded, lying Thomas down in the playpen. “I’ll be right back, Abel.”

Stiles deposited the box onto the coffee table after he and Wendy made their way back to the living room. He removed the lid to reveal the weaponry Gemma kept hidden.

“Um…” Rat looked startled at the sight. “Why do you have those?”

“Last night someone attacked Jax’s house. Today someone blew up the ice cream shop.” Stiles replied slowly, as if Rat was an idiot. “Tig is more or less out of commission, and we’re relying on you to protect us. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that you’re only one guy.”

“I’m sure Jax or one of the others will show up.” The Son tried to put the cover back on the box, only for Stiles to stop him.

“Until they get here...” He picked up a revolver and held it out to Wendy. “You know how to shoot, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” She took the offered weapon. “I really hope you are overacting about this.”

“It’s just a precaution.” He assured her before handing a pistol over to Venus. “How’s your aim?”

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart,” She turned the gun over in her hands, ensuring that the safety was on. “I am an excellent shot, and yourself?”

“Cops kid.” He spent more than enough time bonding with his father at the range.

“Well, you are just full of surprises. Is your daddy as handsome as you are?” She asked with a saucy smirk.

“Hey!” Tig exclaimed.

“He is much better looking than I am.” He tossed her a flirty wink.

“I’m gonna get back to the kids.” Wendy announced, stashing the gun in the back of her jeans. “I need to talk to you about the boys at some point, Stiles.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Wendy retreated back to the bedrooms while Stiles put the lid back on the hat box. He checked the clip in his own gun, making sure it was loaded, before taking a seat in the open chair, resting the gun on his thigh for easier access.

“I thought your name was Stiles?” Rat said unexpectedly, earning a quirked eyebrow from Stiles. “You told the Sheriff that it was Nathaniel Teller.”

“I also told her I was born in April of 1993.” Three years before he his actual year of birth. “It helps sell the whole, being miracle child conceived by Gemma and JT a few months before his accident, thing.”

“So, Jax’s dad is really your dad?” Rat looked as if he genuinely did not understand. “I thought – wasn’t that your dad here this morning?”

“You are not getting the point of a fake identity, are you?” Stiles asked before turning to Tig. “You guys patched him in?”

“He has traits that are useful to the club.” Tig explained.

“I hope so.”

“I’m confused.” Rat confessed.

“I’m gathering that is your general state of being, darlin’.” Venus remarked.

“Are you Stiles or Nathaniel?”

“Stiles Stilinski.” He answered. “Nathaniel Teller is the name on the fake ID I use when I’m in Charming.”

“Why do you need a fake identity?”

“So that anything I do, or anything that happens to me, while I’m here, can’t be traced back to Beacon Hills.” It was for SAMCRO’s enemies, mainly. If he were to be kidnapped, his fake credentials would lead them to Jax, and keep them from knowing about his father.

“The fake ID I had in high school only scored me cigarettes and booze.” Rat admitted.

“Mine isn’t a run of the mill fake you would buy off some stoner in the parking lot of the roller rink. The criminal record helps sell it.” He couldn’t believably be connected to the Sons if he was squeaky clean. “If Jarry had looked a little further she would have figured out it was fake. She just wanted to know what kind of bad guy I was.”

“Sex on the bleachers of a high school football field, huh?” Tig laughed. “I don’t remember that being on your record.”

“Fucking Chibs.” Fucking Juice for adding it to his record in the first place. “Trying to put me on the spot, thinking he’s funny.

“Ah, it’s been a rough few years, we gotta get our fun where we can.” The older man smiled. “It’s fun watching you pull a detailed lie out of thin air.”

“You are all assholes.” Stiles grumbled as Gemma walked through the front door.

“Thinking on your feet is good in our line of work.” Tig reasoned. “And you are awesome at it. After that show you put on this morning with the Calaveras and Jarry, I was ready to vote for a change in leadership, put you in the Pres seat.”

“I don’t know about President, but he would make an excellent Son.” Gemma praised as she made her way to Tig. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, Gem, I’m good.” He accepted her kiss on the cheek.

“Why aren’t you patched in?” Rat asked curiously. ”Why haven’t you asked to prospect?”

“I don’t want to be a part of SAMCRO.” He had plans to follow in his father's footsteps, not Jax's.

"You will patch in." Gemma looked down at him, as if she was lording over him as she spoke. "You will sit at your brother's side. You'll help usher Abel and Thomas into the fold when it's their turn."

"No, I won't." He refused to be cowed by her.

“You had eighteen years of an apple pie life, now you need to be where you belong.” She bent down, placing her hands on the arms of his chair, boxing him in, eyes staring directly into his. “It’s time to come home, baby. It’s time to take your rightful place at the table.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you need a reminder of the Sons of Anarchy [Calaveras.](http://sonsofanarchy.wikia.com/wiki/Calaveras)  
> [TUMBLR](http://www.stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/)  
> [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/user/SandM1827/)  
> Next Chapter: [ Preview One](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/103617947344/mama-gemma-au-are-you-scared-of-my-brother), [Preview Two](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/103846108879/mama-gemma-au-you-were-gonna-kill-me-14)


	5. You're Ashamed of Where You're From

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd for now.  
> Chapter Title is from Fire, Fire by Flyleaf.  
> Gifs that go with this chapter: [Kill Me](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/103846108879/mama-gemma-au-you-were-gonna-kill-me-14)

Jax watched from the bar as everyone filtered into Red Woody. He watched Rat help Tig in, the latter looking better today than he had the previous day. Gemma and Wendy followed soon after, moving to one of the couches to get the boys settled. Stiles was the last one in, carrying Thomas’s playpen.

“Um… Jax?” Rat’s hesitant voice pulled Jax from his people watching.

“Everything go okay last night?” He and the others spent the night at Diosa, talking to Jarry, and hadn’t had the time to check in on how things were at Gemma’s house.

“Yeah. Yes. Um...” The younger man shot a look over his shoulder, as if to see if anyone was watching. “Was that a test?”

“What?”

“Watching everyone, was that a test?”

“No.” Rat was the only one they could spare the night before, that is why he drew the short straw. “Why? What happened?”

“Could I never be responsible for watching Stiles again?” He asked quickly, hands fidgeting with his kutte.

“Are you scared of my brother?” He couldn’t stop the smirk from overtaking his face or the amusement lacing his voice. “More so than you are of Gemma?”

“Gemma has never pulled multiple guns out of a hat box and started passing them around!” Rat said, a little louder than necessary, earning Stiles attention, though he didn’t seem to realize it. “He sat in the living room, all night, facing the door, with a loaded gun on his lap.”

“He can be…” He struggled to find the right word to describe his baby brother.

“Excitable.” Chibs supplied. “Stiles can be a bit excitable.”

“’Excitable?’” Rat echoed, oblivious to the fact that the man in question was now standing behind him. “He’s crazy.”

“Hypervigilant.” Stiles corrected, startling the other man, making him jerk away in surprise. “Not crazy.”

“But you don’t deny that you’re excitable.”

“I am excitable.” He agreed. “Hypervigilant and excitable, but not crazy, despite what my time in Eichen House might suggest.”

“Your time where?” Jax looked at his brother with concern.

“Don’t worry about it.” Stiles waved off the question.

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately and it only worries me more.” It seemed to be Stiles new catchphrase.

“What is all this about?” Stiles gestured to the room at large.

“Lock down. After what happened at Scoops and Diosa,” He shook the images out of his head. “We decided that everyone needed to be together.”

“I understand the need for a lock down and the togetherness.” Stiles started. “I don’t understand why it has to take place in a half-assed porn studio.”

“It’s the only place we could fit everyone.” The only place still standing.

“It is big enough to hold everyone.” The younger man nodded. “Yet small enough to keep us nice and compact. So, when your enemy of the week comes by, while you’re off doing what you do, they can gun us all down in a timely fashion. I’m going to go out on the limb and assume that’s what happened at Diosa.”

“That is not going to happen.”

“Those kids,” Stiles pointed to the boys. “Should not be here.”

“They will be safe here.”

“You all are gearing up to go handle something,” Stiles laid eyes on the surrounding club members. “Who is going to stay behind to look after all these people?”

“We called in a few others charters to help out. They should be here soon. Quinn is going to stay behind until they get here.” Jax patted the man on the back. “Everyone will be safe.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” Stiles sneered. “Maybe if you repeat it enough someone might actually believe you.”

Stiles stalked off quick enough to give Jax whiplash. He looked over to Chibs, like he had some sort of explanation for the younger mans behavior, but the Scot looked just as confused as he was.

“Tiggy,” Chibs called for the other man as they made their way over to him. “What’s wrong with the boy?”

“I can list off a number of things.” Tig quipped. “If you’re referring to his sunny disposition this morning, you can thank Gem.”

“What did she do now?”

“Made noise about Stiles patching in.” The sigh that followed told Jax that there was more to it than that.

“How bad was it?” They had a one-to-ten point system setup for when Stiles and Gemma would fight. A one constituted a basic argument that wrapped up quickly. They had never reached a ten, but the running joke was that it meant one of them had finally picked up a gun and shot the other.

“He’s still pissed, isn’t he?” Still being angry the next morning put it at about a four on the scale. Stiles taking his residual anger out on Jax raised it to a six.

“Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“We don’t have time for this today, brother.” Chibs informed him.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Jax,” Montez hollered from the doorway. “Calaveras are here with the shipment.”

“Alright, we’ll be right out.” Jax tracked his eyes to his brother’s location. “Stiles!”

“What?”

“Calaveras are here.” He jerked his head to the door. “Let’s go.”

“That is SAMCRO’s business.” Stiles pointed out.

“They’re your friends.” He acknowledged, trying to be patient. “You brought them here to begin with.”

“They are not my friends. They kidnapped my friends and me. They tied Scott to a chair and forced his girlfriend to electrocute him. Trust me when I say that they are not my friends.” Stiles growled. “I brought Araya here for information on a bullet. It ended in a deal between your organizations.”

“A deal which you orchestrated.”

“My job is done.” The younger man shrugged.

“She said she had more information on why Lin’s guys had her bullets.” He held up a hand before Stiles could cut him off. “I would appreciate it if you sat in on the meeting.”

“It’s a ammunition delivery, not a meeting.”

“Stiles – “

“I am not a Son. I am not getting involved in SAMCRO business.” Stiles voice went hard.

“We gotta get this shit done, Jackie.” Chibs reminded him.

“Yeah, fine.”

He sent a glare to his brother before following Chibs and the others out of the studio and onto the docks. There were two black SUV’s parked and waiting. Araya Calaveras was bracketed by two of her men, but Argent was mysteriously absent.

“Mr. Teller.” She greeted.

“Mrs. Calaveras.” He shook her hand briefly while his men began to unload the cases of bullets from her vehicles.

“Is Stiles not joining us today?” She noticed the younger man’s absence.

“He has other things to do.” Like being a righteous pain in Jax’s ass. “What did you find out about your bullets?”

“They were sold to Lin by my club.” Just like Stiles had suspected.

“Why would he need to buy wolfsbane bullets?” Lin had suppliers for regular ammunition. “Did your club go to Lin with an offer? Did Lin search them out? Or, did the wolves in Lin’s crew go get the bullets purposefully?”

“I’m not sure.” He did not buy that for a second. “My MC will not be selling to Lin again, given the arrangement between you and I.”

“We don’t have an arrangement. This is a one time buy. We can get our own bullets made with wolfsbane from our usual supplier.” Her gaze turned deadly even as he handed over an envelope of money. “Making bullets takes time and we needed these now.”

“I was under the impression – “

“I apologize if I gave you the wrong impression.” He replied with false sincerity. “You should be aware that I don’t make deals, business or otherwise, with people who torture children.”

“Who- Oh, Scott McCall.” She speculated.

“You had him electrocuted.” He didn’t even try to keep the disgust from his voice.

“Regardless of what Mr. Stilinski may have told you, Scott McCall is an animal. Werewolves are evil. No matter what kind of person they were before the change, they all end up the same.” Araya declared. “They will kill and they will turn the innocent. It’s in their nature. Even a true Alpha, like Scott, will give in to that nature. In fact, Scott has already turned a teenage boy, against the child’s wishes.”

“Scott McCall is my brother’s brother. That means that he is under my protection.” He knew the bond between Scott and Stiles ran just as deep as the one he shared with Opie, and he’d be damned if he let someone break it. “You should remember that if you get any ideas about going after him.”

“Your protection?” She snorted. “You couldn’t even keep your wife safe in your own home. How do you expect to keep one boy safe in another town?”

“Hey!” Bobby barked, putting himself between Araya and Jax. “You got your money, we got our bullets, now get the fuck out of here.”

“Stiles gave into the animal nature as well.” Araya admitted as she opened the door to the SUV, eyes still locked with Jax’s. “He wasn’t entirely human at the time, but he still spilled innocent blood, and he liked it.”

* * *

 

“Stiles, can I talk to you over here for a minute?” Unser asked.

“Yeah, sure.” He followed Wayne to the corner of the room, ignoring the suspicious looks from Gemma and Tig. “What’s going on?”

“APB on Juice went wide.” Jarry wasn’t able to stop it then.

“I’m getting him out of town tonight.” One way or another Juice would be gone before morning. “I just have to find the right time to slip away.”

“Well, you might want to do it soon, because Gem has the same idea as you.” Well, wasn’t that just spectacular. “She’s planning to take him up to your grandpa’s old place in Oregon.”

“I’m going to try and get him out before she does.” If he couldn’t, he would have to drive up to Nate’s and pick Juice up after Gemma left. “It’s going to be a little challenging trying to leave without a tag along, while on lock down.”

“You’re pretty good at dodging your followers.”

“Yeah, but taking the time to lose my tail is really annoying when I have things to do.” He would be more than happy to teach one of the guys how to properly follow someone without being seen on any other day.

* * *

 

Jax helped the guys carry the bullets into storage, loading a few spare clips for themselves and the visiting charters. The wolfsbane bullets didn’t look any different than the bullets they usually fired off, with the exception of the intricate design embedded into the side of them.

“Ready to go, brother?”

“No, I gotta talk to Gemma first.” It was not a conversation he was looking forward to having.

Jax didn’t waste time as he spotted is mother, wrapping his hand around her bicep to pull her along with him into the office. It said something about people’s perceptions of their relationship that no one batted an eyelash at them as they went.

“What’s the matter, baby?” She asked as he closed the door behind them.

“I need you and Stiles to squash this shit between you for the time being.” She rolled her eyes in response. “We have enough to deal with without you two at each other’s throats.”

“Don’t blame me because he gets touchy about certain subjects.” Touchy wasn’t the word he would use to describe his brothers stance on this particular topic.

“When you keep pushing the idea of Stiles joining SAMCRO, then you are to blame.” It was an old argument, one that started as soon as Stiles hit his teens. “Stop bringing it up to him. Get the very idea of him patching in out of your head.”

“You cannot deny that he would be a great addition to the table.”

“It doesn’t matter.” If the club was the way it used to be, before the violence overpowered everything else, when there was still a light at the end of the tunnel, then maybe he would have considered it. “He won’t prospect.”

“He will if he knows you want him to.”

“I don’t want him to.” It was the last thing he wanted for his brother.

“Jackson – “

“Mom,” He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palm. “It is not going to happen.”

“It has to!”

“You don’t even trust Stiles.” She never had. “Why do you want someone you don’t trust at the table?”

“There are a lot of things I don’t trust him with.” She admitted. “But since the day he was born, since the first time you held him, I have trusted him with you.”

“What?”

“After Tommy and your dad… you were gone. You were here but you weren’t. Even Opie couldn’t bring you back, no matter how hard he tried.” Gemma looked at him now as if she was seeing who he was then, a heartbroken kid sleep walking through his life, because he didn’t know how to deal with loss. “I spent six year watching you and waiting for you to…”

“I wouldn’t have left you, Mom.” Not in the way she was implying.

“When Stiles was born you changed.” She gave him a watery smile. “You saw him and he brought you back to me.”

“Mom…” He sighed as she grabbed his face between her hands, leaning in close to him.

“You were so different with him then you had been with Thomas. You were so attentive, so drawn to him, willing to go the extra mile to make him happy.” She stroked his cheek with her thumb. “I’m not saying you weren’t good to Tommy, because you were. You were the best big brother a little boy could ask for. It just all seemed so different with Stiles, and I hated it at first, I hated him for it. Then I saw how much better you seemed…”

“When Thomas went into the hospital for the last time, the doctors told us that there was nothing they could do but keep him comfortable… I didn’t think he would die. I still held out hope that he would somehow get better.” He choked on the sob in his throat. “I thought I would have my little brother forever.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

“I don’t have that same illusion with Stiles.” He felt a tear slide down his face. “I treated Stiles different because I lost Thomas. He wasn’t sick like him, but I knew there were so many other ways that I could lose him. I promised myself, the second I held him, that I would be there for him. I was going to make sure that he knew that I loved him, because I’m not sure Tommy did.”

“Of course he did, baby.” His mother leaned her forehead against his.

“I will not put Stiles in unnecessary danger.” Stiles was in enough danger running with wolves, he didn’t need the club to. “He is in the line of fire every time he’s here. I’m too selfish to tell him to never come back. Keeping him out of the Sons is how I keep him safe.”

“He can be safe as a member – “

“Like Opie and Piney were safe?” Or, Half-Sak, V-Lin, Filthy Phil, Miles. He could list the innocent bystanders and the old ladies that were supposed to be safe within the clubs life. “The way things are now, no one is safe.”

“Things will calm down, they always do.” And they always picked right back up again, bringing something twice as nasty as before. “When they do Stiles can – “

“When – _if_ \- they do, Stiles will be away at school or back in Beacon Hills.” There was no telling when things would finally settle. “Stiles will never be a Son, Mother. I will not let that happen, neither will any other member. You need to understand that.”

* * *

 

Stiles stood on the dock overlooking the water outside of the warehouse, finally having escaped the bustling of peoples, prying eyes, and listening ears.

_“Hello?”_

“Hey, it’s me.”

 _“Weren’t you supposed to here last night?”_ Derek asked.

“Yeah, something came up.” He couldn’t tell the wolf that a club member had been shot and Stiles spent the night playing guard dog with Rat Boy. “I’ll be up tonight. It might be late though.”

_“Have you talked to your dad yet?”_

“No, that is a conversation I would rather have in person.” He wasn’t going to tell his father his master plan, of Derek harboring Juice, over the phone.

 _“When you get here, doesn’t matter how late, make time to talk to Scott.”_ He could place pretty good odds on what that conversation would be about.

“Is there a reason he doesn’t just call me?” The wolf probably wanted to listen to Stiles heartbeat while they talked, which he couldn’t do through a call or text message. “It’s not like I’ve done anything that warrants that Scott McCall puppy eyes of disapproval.”

 _“You met with Araya Calaveras.”_ Apparently, Derek wasn’t too pleased about Stiles meeting a group of hunters either, if his icy tone meant anything.

“It had nothing to do with the pack or Beacon Hills.”

 _“You can explain it to Scott.”_ Derek said as if he didn’t care, which Stiles knew was bullshit. _“I’m going to guess it had something to do with you being attacked.”_

“Yeah.” But, that’s all he would say on the subject. “How is everyone?”

 _“It’s only been three days, Stiles.”_ A lot could happen in three days. _“Everyone is just the same as they were when you left. Our lives aren’t as exciting as the one you are living right now.”_

“Yeah, Beacon Hills is downright boring.” When supernatural creatures gone dark side weren’t terrorizing it. “Are you sure you’re okay with taking Juice in for a little while?”

 _“I never would have agreed to it if I wasn’t.”_ That might have been true but he’s still had time to change his mind. _“Do you have a problem with it?”_

“No.” He probably answered a bit too fast. “I just wish I didn’t have to put you in this position. Things have finally settled down in Beacon Hills, no life or death situations this week, and I don’t want to stir anything up by leaving Juice there.”

 _“Unless a bunch of cops or bikers come knocking at my door looking for your friend, I think we’ll be okay.”_ Bikers showing up were unlikely, but cops may be another story.

“Listen, I gotta go.” He said as he watched Gemma and Unser climb into her SUV. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He ended the call before Derek could respond, walking toward Jax, who was mounting his bike and preparing to leave for the day.

“Where are Gemma and Wayne going?” He questioned as the woman’s vehicle pulled out of the parking lot.

“Up to Nate’s.” Jax answered as he strapped on his helmet. “Doctor’s said he took a turn for the worse.”

“That’s terrible.” Using her father’s health as a distraction was low even for Gemma.

“Wendy’s looking for you.” His brother informed him. “Abel kind of had a meltdown while you were on the phone. I told her you would keep close to him today. She wanted to talk to you about it.”

“Okay.”

He tried to ignore the spike of anger he felt as he watched Jax ride off. The older man had just said his son had a meltdown, now he riding away like that didn’t mean anything. The need for revenge meant more to Jax than his son’s wellbeing.

“Is Abel okay?” He asked as Wendy pulled him aside as soon as he made his way back into the warehouse.

“He barricaded himself and Thomas in the supply closet. He had a hammer.” Stiles eyes found where his nephew was sitting beside Brooke on the couch, seemingly unaware of the distress he had cause others. “He wasn’t going to hurt Thomas. He was trying to protect him.”

“That doesn’t actually surprise me.” Abel was a perceptive kid, he knew they weren’t safe and tried to do what he could to ensure his little brothers safety. “It scares me, but it doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“Jax talked to him for a minute, I’m not sure what good it did though.” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth before continuing. “Will you talk to him?”

“Abel?”

“Abel and Jax.” She stated. “Abel really needs his dad right now and Jax hasn’t really been… I know he’s trying but – “

“But, Abel needs his father in a more stable way, not just when Jax can see fit to pull himself away from the club.” He summed up what she was trying to say. “It might mean more coming from you at this point. I haven’t been around a lot the last year or so. You’ve been there for them since Tara died.”

“I don’t want to overstep my boundaries.” She said nervously, and Stiles could respect that. She was unsure of how long Gemma and Jax would allow her to remain in Abel’s life. One misstep and she would never see the boys again. “Will you do it, please?”

“Right now? No.” He had put off getting Juice out of town long enough. “I will talk to them when I get the chance though.”

“Thank you.”

“I would love to stay and talk to Abel now, especially considering I was just thinking about what a dick Jax was for leaving his son after he had a meltdown.” At this point, nothing he or Wendy could say was going to go far either way. Sometimes a kid just needed their dad. “Unfortunately, I really have to go take care of something.”

“Are you going to pick up Juice? Wayne told me you were helping him.” Stiles narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion. “I didn’t tell Gemma.”

“I appreciate that.” If Gemma knew he was working to get Juice out of town then it would make his job harder than it already was. “If you still want to help…”

“You need a distraction to get past the big guy?” She nodded in Quinn’s direction. “I got your back.”

“You are the best ex-wife Jax has ever had.” He kissed her cheek quickly. “Thank you!”

* * *

 

It was dark when he opened his eyes, a stark contrast to how sunny it had been when he closed them. He looked over to Gemma, about to ask how long he had been asleep, but thought better of it when he took in her appearance. He noticed the tense line of her shoulders, the frown on her face, how every so often she would shake her head and mutter under her breath as if she was holding a conversation with someone.

“You got into it with Stiles, huh?” Aside from Tara, Stiles was the only person who could put Gemma in such a state.

“What?”

“You two always fight when he visits. It’s like you can’t help yourselves.” Nine times out of ten, their arguments boiled over on the same topic. ”His answer is never gonna change, Gem.”

“I already had this out with Jax earlier. I don’t need it from you.” She grumbled, fingers flexing against the steering wheel.

“Jax knows why he doesn’t want Stiles to join the club. He has no clue why Stiles doesn’t want the patch.” The differences behind their reasoning did not matter as long as the answer stayed the same. “Hell, Jax doesn’t even know why _you_ want Stiles to join the Sons so badly.”

“Oh, but you do?” She scoffed.

“You think if he patches in that you will get to keep your spot in the club.” The car jerked as she shot him a look. “Tara would have taken your place as queen, but Stiles would take the rest of it.”

“Like hell.”

“You knew every lie, every secret, and every truth. So does Stiles.” They could build the club up or knock it all down with the right words. “You’re both nurturers and confidants. We are all so willing to trust you with our secrets. You're the gatekeepers.”

“Stiles doesn’t know the things that I know.” Gemma insisted. “He couldn’t possibly.”

“Not all of it, but some of it.” She held secrets from the very beginning of SAMCRO. “He knows things that you don’t know. He knows things about me, about Chibs, Tig, and Bobby. Even Jax has told him things that you will never know.”

“Bullshit.” She growled.

“Jax trusts Stiles more than he trusts you.” She had to realize that by now. Jax tended to side with Stiles over Gemma in any situation. “Jax trusts Stiles to make the right decision, to protect his family, no matter what the cost or the harm it does to him. He knows that Stiles would never use his position hurt another member."

“I don’t know what position you think I hold in the Sons of Anarchy…” She shook her head. “I’m just an old lady.”

“You are the person behind the curtain that pulls all the strings.” The club was her marionette. “If Stiles moved to Charming, they would all accept him as the puppeteer. He would bring order to all the chaos. And you really would be nothing more than Jax’s mother and the former old lady of two dead club presidents.”

He knew he hit the nail on the head as the car sped up, a sign of her anger. She was pissed, probably with him, probably with herself for being so transparent.

“I guess what I’m wondering is,” He looked out the window, taking note of the road signs as they drove past. “I’m wondering why we are headed south, when you’re dads place is up north.”

* * *

 

By the time, Stiles had made it to Wendy’s apartment Gemma’s car was already leaving. Short of running it off the road, the only thing he could do was follow. He mentally patted himself on the back for deciding to take the Volvo, it was much less conspicuous than his jeep, which made it easier to tail the SUV without being noticed.

They didn’t even make it a few blocks before Stiles realized they weren’t heading to Oregon. Gemma’s sudden change in route should not have come as a surprise. She most likely never intended to take Juice to Nate’s house.

They drove south until the sun went down and the moon came up. The road was more or less deserted now, save for he and Gemma’s vehicles. Gemma must have been pretty distracted if she hadn’t noticed someone following her the entire drive.

“The fuck?” He muttered to himself as he saw the SUV begin to swerve between to the two lanes.

He pulled the car to the side of the road, keeping out of harm’s way. The SUV lost control on the road, like Gemma and Juice were both fighting for the steering wheel, keeping it from driving on a straight path. Stiles couldn’t do anything but watch as the vehicle traveled erratically down the road before going off the side, slamming through a guardrail and into a pile of rocks.

He jumped out of his car and started toward the wreckage. The sound of a gun going off, followed by a frightened yelp, caused him to break into a jog.

“Stop running!” Juice’s voice boomed loudly in the otherwise silent night.

Stiles came around the side of the SUV, keeping himself out of the line of sight as he took in the scene. Gemma was on the ground, trying to scamper away. Juice was stalking after her, gun drawn, barrel aimed at her head.

“You were going to kill me?” He listened to Juice growl.

“No! I don’t know! I-I don’t know!” Gemma whimpered.

He stood and watched as Gemma sobbed out useless apologies while the grip Juice had on his gun didn’t falter. He debated letting whatever was going to happen just happen. He could walk back to the car and wait. If Juice killed Gemma then maybe things would be easier on Jax when he learned the truth. Then again, that would mean Gemma would never have to face what she did to Tara.

“Shit.” He stumbled over rocks and sticks as he made his way to them.

“I saved you.” The hurt in Juice’s voice outweighed the anger. “I trusted you.”

“I‘m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Juice!” He skidded to a stop between them, placing himself in front of Gemma while facing Juice. “You can’t shoot her.”

“She brought me out here to kill me.” The older man enunciated each word carefully.

“Yes, she did.” He sent a glare over his shoulder to the woman. “You saved her and she turned on you. What a shocker, right? She should not have brought you out here, but I can’t let you kill her.”

“You know what she – “

“She will pay for the things she’s done, but not like this.” Her death would not solve anything. “Killing her now would be a mercy, and she doesn’t deserve that.”

Juice seemed to understand what Stiles meant. He lowered the gun and allowed Stiles to take it from him without a fight. He didn’t have to tell Juice to go sit in the Volvo, he simply hiked off in that direction once he seemed sure that Stiles had control of the situation. Once he was sure Juice was safely in the car he turned back toward Gemma, who was still sitting on the ground, eyes stuck on the weapon in his hands.

“There’s a truck stop diner a few miles down the road.” He remembered seeing it on the GPS in the car. “It should take you a few hours to get there in those boots. You should start walking.”

“My car – “ He cut her off by firing two shots, one to the front and one to the rear driver side tires. “What did you do that for?”

“You and I need to talk.” He answered. “I can’t have you running back to Charming and spilling more lies.”

“I wouldn’t – Hey!” She jerked back as Stiles reached down, into her jeans pocket, to retrieve her cellphone.

“You will get this back when I pick you up at the diner in a couple of hours.” Or, off the side of the road, depending on how long it took her to get going.

“What’s to stop me from using the payphone at the diner?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “Except the only two people who wouldn’t bat an eyelash at you being this far south are the two people who told me you were leaving with Juice today. So, unless you want to explain to Jax or your boyfriend why you are here, instead of at Nate’s, you will stay put.”

* * *

 

The drive to Beacon Hills was a quiet one. The only time Juice tried to start conversation Stiles had shot him down with a look. He wasn’t in the mood for talking. He was too tired and too pissed to do much more than drive. His irritation only amplified when he pulled into the parking lot of Derek’s building to see Scott’s bike there as well.

The ride up to the loft was quick, but Stiles hesitated at the door. He knew the wolves were already aware of their presence. Standing out in the hall was just putting off the inevitable.

“Holy – Jesus!” Stiles stumbled backward after pulling the door open to find Scott _right fucking there_. “What the hell, Scott?”

“What happened to you?” The Alpha asked, making Stiles remember that not everyone in the pack had seen his bruised face. “Derek said you were beat up but he didn’t say what actually happened.”

“I got beat up. End of story.” He didn’t want to get into his werewolf altercation with Scott, instead choosing to grab Juice by the arm and lead him to the couch where Derek and Braeden were seated. “Derek, Braeden, this is Juice."

“Hey,” Juice nodded in greeting. “Thanks for letting me crash here. It won’t be for long.”

“No problem.”

“Did you leave anything you need at Wendy’s? If you did, I can bring it up in a few days.” Stiles said only to be ignored. “Juice?”

“Oh, you’re talking to me again?” Juice asked with raised eyebrows.

“Really?” Stiles glared. “You’re going to do the annoyed spouse routine?”

“You are the one who gave me the silent treatment the whole way here.” The older man replied petulantly.

“I was busy wondering what the hell you were thinking getting into a car with Gemma.” He gave him a pointed look. _“What the hell were you thinking getting into a car with Gemma?”_

“She wasn’t going to take no for an answer, Stiles. What did you want me to do, bash her over the head?” Stiles nodded his head up and down exaggeratedly. “I wasn't going to bash her over the head, Stiles!”

“You had no problem holding a gun to her head.” He was fairly certain that was worse than knocking her unconscious.

“What?” Scott shrieked, reminding Stiles that he and Juice were not alone in the loft.

“What?” He repeated back to Scott innocently.

“He…” The Alpha’s eyes flooded red as he stared at Juice.

“Gemma was going to kill him. He was defending himself.” He highlighted the situation. “Nobody got hurt or dead. Everything is fine.”

“Does your dad know about this?” Scott asked.

“Not yet. He’s my next stop.” Stiles assumed the wolf meant about Juice staying at the loft, not Juice pulling a gun on Gemma. “Before I leave, does anyone have any questions or concerns about Juice’s temporary relocation?”

“I do.” The man in question raised his hand. “This is a bad idea. If Jax finds out you’re letting me stay with your friends, he will see it as a betrayal.”

“Jax finding out this betrayal is the least of my worries.” It was the others that he hoped Jax would never find out about. “Plus, if my dad reacts how I think he will, then you won’t be here very long. You will be spending some quality time in a cell at the Beacon Hills County Sheriff’s Department."

“What?”

“You are wanted for questioning, he is the sheriff.” His dad was not just going to let that go because Stiles asked him to. “He is going to question you about Tara’s murder, and then he will relay that information through the proper channels. The APB will go away and that will be one less thing for you to worry about.”

“How in the hell do you plan to pull that off?” The older man inquired.

“I’m not entirely sure. My dad and I will figure it out.” Between the two of them they could come up with something.

“How does your dad questioning me end with me in a jail cell?” That really depended on what Juice told him.

“He might actually do that for his own amusement, or payback for traumatizing him when we – “ Juice smacked a hand over his mouth to shut him up.

“We swore we would never speak of that.” Stiles bit down on the man’s palm, causing him to pull it away. “Ow.”

“That’s what you get.” Stiles snarked before getting back on topic. “I am going to give my dad the full story, leaving out certain details for now. You are going to give him the same spiel you would give Lt. Jarry, but with less attitude. You treat my dad with respect.”

“I will.” He promised.

“You do not leave this loft unless my dad or Derek is with you.” He did not want Juice to run back to Charming the minute he walked out the door. “I want all of the weapons you have on you.”

“Why?” He asked while already complying with the demand, leaving the items on the coffee table.

“You do not want my dad to catch you with unregistered firearms.” It would be one more reason to keep him in jail. “And, I know how many times you’ve tried to end your own life, so I don’t exactly trust you with anything that can help you try again.”

“I could always throw myself off the roof.” Juice joked but sobered when he saw the stricken look on Stiles face. “Sorry, bad joke.”

“I’ll make sure he stays off the roof and balcony.” Derek reassured him.

“Thank you.” He did not want the image of Juice splattered on the pavement below the building in his mind. “Braeden, can you store all these guns with your stash?”

“Sure.” She nodded. “You’re not going to take them with you?”

“I don’t really feel like trying my luck today.” He had already driven with a wanted man in his car. He wasn’t going to risk Highway Patrol or one of Jarry’s deputies pulling him over and finding a weapons cache in the trunk. “Okay, I have to get going.”

“I need to talk to you first.” Scott piped up.

“Told you.” Derek muttered in his direction.

“Calaveras, right?” The Alpha nodded. “It was club business. The Calaveras hunters also have a motorcycle club in Lodi."

“Mr. Argent said –“

“Argent was mad because he got left out.” Granted, if Stiles wouldn’t have spoken up then Araya may have let Chris stay and listen to the conversation.

“He said you bought bullets from him.” There was a hint of accusation mixed with disapproval in his tone. “Wolfsbane bullets.”

“Werewolves aren’t exclusively indigenous to Beacon Hills, and not all of them are as cuddly as you and Sourwolf.” Derek scoffed at that. “I wanted the club to be safe. It was a business transaction.”

“Jax is letting you make deals for SAMCRO now?” Juice asked incredulously, earning a raised eyebrow from Stiles. “Okay, I’ll stay out of it.”

“That would probably be best.” Stiles said. “As I said before, I have to go.“

“Stiles, you should have told me about the Calaveras.” Scott remarked, blocking his way to the door. “We are pack – “

“You didn’t tell me about your deal with Gerard.” It was an old wound, stupid to bring up, but it was the only way to shut the Alpha down quickly. “Info sharing goes both ways, Scott. Do not try to act all high and mighty with me about my meeting with Calaveras, when you have done the same shit with someone far worse than them.”

“I wasn’t going to…” Scott let his words trail off, looking lost at Stiles outburst.

“Don’t read too much into what he’s saying.” Juice said consolingly. “He gets this way when he’s been around Gemma for an extended period of time.”

“Doesn’t the club want you dead because you can’t keep your mouth shut?” Stiles was sure that was one of the reasons. “You should start working on that, like now.”

“You are only proving my point.”

“I am going away now.” He grumbled, secretly pleased that Juice was in a better mood now than when he picked him up.

“Hate to see you go. Love to watch you leave.” Juice deadpanned.

“Fuck off.”

* * *

 

Stiles waved a greeting to Parrish and the other deputies as he made his way through the bullpen. He didn’t bother knocking before entering his father's office, closing the door behind him. His dad didn’t seem to surprised to see him, only stared as he sunk into a chair across from him.

“You look tired, son.” The older man spoke softly. “Nightmares?”

“No.” Not this time at least. “I didn’t have a chance to sleep. I was on the road all night.”

“It’s only a two hour drive from here to Charming.”

“Yeah, most of the night was tailing Gemma.” He ignored the questioning look in favor of the printout lying on the desk. He picked it up carefully, as if it was something fragile. “Juan Carlos Ortiz.”

“I received that this morning.” He and a few hundred other cops up of the West Coast. “There’s an APB out for him.”

“He’s at Derek’s loft.” He didn’t take his eyes off Juice’s mug-shot, posted on the corner of the document. “I dropped him off before I came here.”

“Do I need to tell you how stupid it is to be driving around with someone who is wanted by the police?” It was tired exasperation, rather than irritation, that laced his father’s voice.

“It was either drive him out of town or let Gemma kill him.” He shrugged in nonchalance, leaving out the part where Juice had a gun on Gemma. “He is going to turn himself into you, because he trusts you. Lt. Jarry cannot find out he’s here.”

“Jarry? Is she Charming’s new sheriff?” Stiles nodded. “Why can’t she know that the man she’s looking for is here?”

“She’s on the clubs payroll.” He wasn’t going to involve his father in this without giving him the information he had. “I think she’ll hand Juice over to the club when she’s done with him.”

“I’m assuming you don’t want Juice in the clubs hands because they want him dead?” Stiles ability to deduce a situation with little information was an inherited trait. “Same reason that Gemma wants to kill him?”

“Different reasons.” He dropped the APB printout back down on the desk. “I don’t know the details of why the club wants him dead. I know that he said something to someone he shouldn’t have, but I don’t know the specifics. As for Gemma…he knows her role in Tara’s murder, and she thinks he will flip on her.”

“Christ.” His father rubbed at his eyes. “Gemma had a role in Tara’s murder?”

“She killed her. She thought Tara was going to rat and send Jax to prison.” Gemma had more motive than anyone to want Tara dead. If Jarry had half a brain, she would have figured that out by now.

“If you know this, Stiles, you have to turn her in.” His dad started to reach for the phone, only for Stiles to stop him.

“I can’t prove it. Juice isn’t a reliable witness with his record.” If Gemma found out Juice had gone to the cops, she would turn everything around on him. She would claim he killed Tara, and that is why he went on the run. Juice could easily look like the guilty party. “I want to tell you why Juice knows what Gemma did, but…”

“But you can’t yet.” He didn’t look disappointed, just worried. “Tell me what your plan is.”

“For Gemma or Juice?”

“Let’s start with Juice.” His father suggested. “He will turn himself into me for questioning, but you don’t want me to tell Sheriff Jarry.”

“The San Joaquin County DA is Tyne Patterson. Unser said she was the one pushing for the APB.” She was also the one that Tara had been working with. “Maybe you can reach out to her.”

“I know Patterson. She’s good, but took a hit during that school shooting case.” That was probably why she wanted to get Tara and Roosevelt’s murderer behind bars. She needed a win so that community could trust her again. “If we want her to drop the APB quietly, I’m going to have to tell her about Jarry being dirty.”

“Okay.” Without any proof, it would just be a suspicion, but with someone like Patterson that might just be enough.

“What happens when Juice is no longer wanted by the police?”

“I go sit down with Jax.” It was the opposite of what Juice wanted him to do, but if it kept him alive then Stiles didn’t care. “I ask him if there is anything Juice can do to stay off the Sons of Anarchy’s most wanted list.”

“And if there’s not?” Stiles flinched at the idea of it. “Stiles – “

“Maybe Juice turns himself into you again.” It’s not like Juice had many options if he refused to leave the club and the club wanted him dead. “He can make a deal. He can give the DA something he has done, and he can give you Gemma’s part in Tara’s murder. In exchange for his confession and testimony, he can go to a prison somewhere far enough away that SAMCRO can’t touch him.”

“You already said that Juice wasn’t a reliable witness.” John pointed out. “What happens when Gemma counters his statement? She has her hand in everything the club does. She knows more than enough to put him away for a very long time.”

“If Gemma uses something he has done for the club against him, then she will be shining a light on the Sons, on Jax, and she won’t do that.” She would not take that kind of risk. “Juice would have no reason to lie anyway. He confesses and he will go away for life, probably get the death penalty. The only thing he gets out of the deal is safety from club retaliation.”

“Stiles, I know you love Juice.” Stiles lifted his eyes to meet his father’s. “I know he loves you. I haven’t always agreed with it, because you were underage and he is a criminal in your brothers biker gang. But, I could never deny how much you care about each other, not when it was platonic, and not when it was more than that. I know that you would do everything in your power to keep the people you love safe.”

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do.” It scared his dad, how far he was willing to go to protect his family and friends, hell it scared him sometimes.

“Juice, Jax, SAMCRO…you can’t protect them the same way you protect the pack.” The pack tried their hardest to stay out of trouble, out of danger, while the Sons sauntered into it without thinking about the damage it would inflict. “When it comes to the club, someone is always going to end up in jail, missing under suspicious circumstances, or dead.”

“I know.”

“You have known some of these guys your entire life.” Chibs, Tig, and Bobby since birth, the others filtered in a few years later. “If Jax and the club don’t agree to give Juice leniency, it will put you on the other side of things. It will put you at odds with people you love, people that you consider family. Can you do that?”

“I think I have to.” He whispered.

“Why?”

“I can’t save Jax. He’s in too deep. He’s too far gone.” Tara had seen it, that’s why she wanted out. “The others are ready to die for him without even knowing why. I can’t save them. I couldn’t save Tara.”

“They are not your responsibility. They made their own choices.” His father said sternly. “Tara made her own choices. You don’t get to hold that guilt.”

“I know I can’t save Juice.” Knowing that broke his goddamn heart. “I can’t save him from himself, or his future, but I can try and save him from the club.”

“How?”

“By turning him over to the cops.” It wasn’t what he wanted to do, but it might be what he had to do.

“You said he would probably get the death penalty.” His dad pointed out. “How is that any different than turning him over to Jax?”

“If he gets the death penalty, then he will be dying for a choice he made, not for one the club made for him. If I let Jax or the club kill him…I would never be able to look any of them in the eye again, let alone be in the same room with them.” He was aware that his reasoning wasn’t completely selfless.

“I cannot believe I’m going to suggest this, being an officer of the law,” The older man shook his head. “Why doesn’t he just run?”

“He can’t survive on his own. He would drive himself insane.” He was doing a good job of it already. “There is no happy ending for him.”

“Stiles…”

“I remember when he first showed up in Charming.” Stiles smiled sadly. “I was eight. It was my first summer there after we lost mom. I was following Jax and Chibs around TM.”

“If I remember correctly, you had quite the fascination with Chibs when you were a boy.” He cheeks flushed red in embarrassment at his father’s words.

“It was the accent and the scars, they drew me in.” It helped that the Scot never had a problem with him tagging along. “We were outside when Juice came walking up. He was so young, so thin. He was beaten to hell, his clothes were torn. He had obviously been through something.”

“I’m pretty sure a questionable childhood is mandatory for all club members.” His father mused.

“Jax and Chibs took one look at him and decided he was worthy. They brought him into the fold.” They even looked past the lies about his age and why he ran away from home. “They gave him a job, somewhere to sleep, and food to eat. I thought they had saved him. I was so stupid.”

“You weren’t stupid, Stiles.” His dad corrected. “They did save him, from whatever he was running from then. They couldn’t have known what would happen in the future.”

“Juice was never made for the club life. He needed family, they offered him that, and he latched onto it with both hands.” It was only natural for Juice to be drawn to the club atmosphere. He didn’t have close family ties, and there wasn’t a single person he knew in California when he had shown up. Then he met two bikers who offered him everything he ever wanted. “I’m better built for SAMCRO than he ever was.”

“No, you are not.” His father shook his head dismissively. “Your mind and Jax’s mind work the same way, I will admit to that. You use your brain to protect people, for the greater good, so to speak. Jax tries to do what’s right, but in that life it always ends up wrong.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Regret what?”

“Letting Jax be in my life.” Ever since he found out who his brother really was, he had wondered. “You could have taken me and left. You never had to step foot in Charming again. Gemma wouldn’t show up randomly to harass you. You would never have to worry about me becoming a victim of club retaliation. I would never come to you and ask for help in putting someone I love in prison.”

“Whether I let Jax in your life or not, Gemma always would have come for you.” That was probably true. She would have shown up as soon as he came to age and whisked him away to join the club. “I don’t think you would be who you are without Jax’s influence. He helped shape you. I think, if you even realize it or not, that you watched him. You saw his failures and his successes, and you learned from them.”

“That didn’t answer my question.” Stiles pointed out. “Do you regret letting Jax into my life?”

“Sometimes.” His father admitted. “When I see you with strangulation marks.”

“Understandable.” He reached up to touch the bruises around his neck. “Why did you let him in to begin with?”

“I wasn’t going to. I was going to take you and leave, like you said.” He confessed. “But, I saw Jax when he picked you up in his arms for the first time. He looked at you like you were the answer to every question that he ever had. This morose kid, that I had only met a handful of times, just completely lit up the moment he saw you. How could I take that from him?”

“I don’t know.”

“I learned to look past the club, because of how much he loved you.” It was a hard thing to do for a cop and a father. “He was always so great with you. I think he took a more active role in your life, during your visits, than he ever has with his boys.”

“Things were different thing, less chaotic.” It was a simpler time. “He had the time for me. He is so lost in the club now… Abel and Thomas get left behind.”

“Kids aren’t something you can just leave behind.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think Jax wants to, but he’s doing a damn fine job of it.” He was trying, Stiles knew that, but he wasn’t trying hard enough. “Jax never had to be the caregiver for the kids, because Tara took care of them.”

“Have you told him?” He gestured for his father to explain further, not understanding the question. “Have you told Jax about what you were doing with Tara those last few weeks, before she died?”

“No.” He hadn’t had the courage to.

“Some of that left a paper trail, Stiles. If Charming’s new Sheriff decides to look into you, she is going to find it.” She wouldn’t need to look very hard to find it. “If she tells him before you do –“

“I know. He will hate me.” Their relationship would never recover. “How am I supposed to tell him that, not only was I helping to take his children from him, but that I…”

“I don’t know, Son. You have to be honest with him.” That was easier said than done. “It has to come from you. It will only be worse if he finds out from someone else.”

“I’ll tell him soon. I just have to figure out how.” He pulled at the strands of his unruly hair. “I can’t think about this now. I have to go get Gemma.”

“I’m not comfortable with that at all.” He didn’t expect him to be after learning that she was responsible for Tara’s death. “Doesn’t she have a car?”

“She crashed it and then I shot out her tires.” It wasn’t a big deal. “I’m meeting her at a diner.”

“Promise me that you will be careful.” His dad insisted.

“I promise that I will be as careful as I can be.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

* * *

 

He stood near the door and just watched upon entering the diner. He spotted her instantly, sitting in a booth, talking to herself. One of the waitress was watching as well, coffeepot in her hands, brows furrowed at Gemma’s rambling. As he got closer, he could begin to make out what she was talking about, and whom she was talking to.

“Are you trying to make Tara feel guilty for her own murder?” Stiles asked as he slid into the booth, receiving no reaction from the older woman. “Hello? Earth to Gemma?”

“What?” She looked up at him slowly, eyes clearing as if she was just seeing him for the first time. “Stiles?”

“That is the name I was born with.” He quipped.

“No it’s not.”

“True.” His legal first name wasn't even the name he was born with. “Did you hear anything I said when I came in?”

“No.” She looked confused. “I didn’t even see you sit down. It must be the lack of sleep. I was walking in heeled boots all night.”

“You should have thought about that before you decided to take Juice out to the desert to put a couple rounds in the back of his head.” He threw back at her.

“I didn’t expect anyone to be following me.” She retorted, not a hint of remorse in her tone. “I should have known you would seek him out when you came back to Charming.”

“Don’t you mean, when you baited me into coming to Charming?”

“Does Jax know you’re helping Juice?”

“If he doesn’t then he isn’t as smart as I give him credit for.” It wasn’t much of a leap to figure out. “Does he know that you, Wendy, and Unser, were hiding him?”

“You gonna tell him?” She gave him an ugly smirk. “You gonna tell him that I brought Juice out here? That you took him somewhere for safe keeping?”

“Eventually, yeah. Of course, when I tell him, you will some major explaining to do.” Gemma would be stuck with the explanations. Jax would only look at Stiles with annoyance, seeing as he had made his stance on Juice perfectly clear. “Jax might wonder how you knew where Juice was to begin with.”

“I will tell him –“

“You will tell him that Juice kidnapped you at gun point. You were going to be his ticket to a safe ride out of town. He left you on the side of the road, at a designated meeting spot that he and I obviously discussed beforehand. We shot out your tires so you couldn't follow us. We took your cell phone so you couldn’t call for help. And I came back to make sure you stay quiet.”

Whatever bravado Gemma had was wiped away, replaced by a look of wide-eyed disbelief.

“It’s scary how well I know your mind, isn’t it? It’s almost like we’re related or something.” He chuckled before grabbing for a menu. “How about some breakfast before we go? I need some fuel for the road.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: [Preview](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/103925963364/mama-gemma-au-dinner-with-mom-15-chapter-6)  
> [TUMBLR](http://www.stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/)  
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> Thank you for all the comments and kudos, they are greatly appreciated.


	6. In the Throes of Rebellion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd for now.  
> Chapter title is from Teenage Rebellion by The Gaslight Anthem  
> Comments: I do try to reply to comments, but it takes me a while sometimes. I apologize if I can't get to you, but I really appreciate them all.  
> Gif set/Art that go with this chapter: [Quality Time Together](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/104320921039/mama-gemma-au-quality-time-together-16) & [Dinner with Mom](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/103925963364/mama-gemma-au-dinner-with-mom-15-chapter-6).

Juice refused to look at him. He had been sitting in that chair for close to forty-five minutes and had done nothing but stare at the floor with an unhelpfully blank face. John had planned to wait the kid out, let him be the first to break the silence. Unfortunately, that plan wasn’t working in his favor today.

“You know, for someone who is in trouble with their club for an inability to keep his mouth shut, you are sure doing a good job of it now.” He quipped, gaining no reaction from the other man. “You gotta give me something here, son.”

“You’re supposed to ask me questions about Tara’s murder, right?” Juice spoke up. “You ask, I’ll answer.”

“No, I can’t be the one to interrogate you.” The younger mans eyes lifted to meet his, confusion written all over his face. “It would be a conflict of interest, given your friendship with Stiles.”

“Then why am I here?”

“One of my deputies will interview you about Tara.” It would be easier for him to lie to someone he didn’t know. “I want you to write out a statement of what really happened that night. Everything that happened. You can give it to your lawyer.”

“I don’t have a lawyer. I can’t use the club lawyer anymore.” That was the problem with a group of outlaws who had the same representation.

“You need to find a new one. You need a contingency plan in case everything goes south.” In other words, if Juice ended up dead, he wanted there to be written proof what truly happened the night Tara was murdered. “Plus, it would be better for you in the long run to have proper council.”

“Why do you care what’s best for me?”

“Stiles cares.” It was that simple.

“Stiles likes things that are bad for him.” Juice pointed out.

“Don’t I know it.” Stiles liked over using his adderall, running with wolves, and bikers with scalp tattoos. All three were bad for his health. “Stiles is also good judge of character. I’ve learned to trust his instincts when it comes to people.

“What do his instincts say about me?” Juice asked tentatively, as if he was afraid of the answer.

“I’m more worried about how he feels about Lt. Jarry. He is sure she’s a dirty cop.” He was inclined to believe him, he knew Stiles wouldn’t lie about something like that. “What do you think of her?”

“I haven’t met her. I know that Stiles wouldn't have brought me to you unless he had no other choice.” If Jarry was on the up and up, Stiles would have encouraged him to go to her, rather than bringing him to Beacon Hills. “If he thinks she’s bad news, he’s probably going to try and bring her down.”

“Yeah, I know.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m hoping he will focus his attentions elsewhere for now, give me a chance to look into her. I don’t want him getting on the bad side of a cop that’s on the take.”

“Dirty cops don’t have boundaries. They think they’re above the law because they are the law.” Juice acknowledged. “If she thinks he’s becoming a problem she could make something happen, keep him quiet.”

“Exactly.”

“Stiles focus will be on Gemma, now that he’s got me figured out.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” It was a double-edged sword. Both Jarry and Gemma could cause him harm. “Okay, look, Deputy Parrish is going to interview you about Tara. Do you know what you’re going to tell him?”

“The same thing I would tell Jarry.”

“So, not anything remotely close to the truth.” It was not ideal, but it would have to do until everything else fell into place. “Generally, when I’m working around the law that I’m here to uphold, it is because something supernatural has attacked the town and I have to explain it away while keeping the pack out of jail. It’s not usually because my son’s biological mother killed his sister-in-law, and I’m letting him handle it rather than arresting her.”

“ _’Letting’_ is a strong word. He would do it either way. He’s just giving you the courtesy of being informed.”

“Yeah, that is true.” His kid would do what he thought he had to, whether he liked or not, legal or not. “Anyway, you are going to talk with Parrish, and I have a lunch meeting with DA Patterson. We’ll have to hold you here until Patterson decides what she wants to do with you.”

“If she tells Jarry who I turned myself into, and she tells Jax – “

“Jax is going to know the minute Stiles sits down with him to ask if there is anything you can do to earn a death pardon.” Even if Jarry told him first, Jax would never attack Stiles.

“I told Stiles not to do that.”

“Did he promise he wouldn’t?” Wording was important.

“No.” He replied indignantly.

“Then you should have known he was going to.” Though, Stiles would break a promise if he thought it could save a life. “Stiles can find a loophole in anything. He will punch a hole through something that has none.”

“If I just confessed to you, then Stiles would have no reason to go to Jax.” Juice said with a new kind of determination in his voice.

“Why would you do that?” Stiles would not like that at all, but in the end, it was Juice’s life, not his. “You want back in the club, Stiles is trying to make that happen – “

“I want Stiles to be out of the club more than I want to be back in it.” Juice remarked harshly. “He has already worked one deal since he’s been in Charming. If he does this for me, then he will do something for someone else. He’s going to start liking it, start wanting it. He will be more willing to let himself be sucked into that life.”

“Giving a damn about my son’s wellbeing is a good way to get me to like you.” Being willing to give up his freedom to keep Stiles from becoming a Son was an easy way to get on his good side. “I do not want to like someone I will inevitably help send to prison.”

* * *

 

“Still no Stiles or Gemma?” Jax asked, stretching his arms above his head to work the kinks out.

“Nope. I tried Gem’s cell a few times but it goes straight to voicemail.” Nero handed him a cup of coffee as he answered. “I don’t have Stiles number.”

“I do and he ain’t picking up either.” Tig muttered from behind his mug. “Gemma’s probably busy with your grandpa. Stiles is either still pissed about shit from yesterday or he’s getting himself a piece of ass.”

“Kid doesn’t really seem like the type to go trolling for pussy.” Nero noted.

“He’s not.” Stiles was not the one night stand kind of guy. He liked to get to know someone before he took him or her to bed.

“Puerto Rican dick on the other hand…” Tig smirked. “He doesn’t have to go looking. He always knows where to find it.”

“You talkin’ about Juice?” Nero raised an eyebrow at him. “He and your brother are a thing?”

“Kind of?” It was a bit hard to pinpoint exactly what Juice and Stiles were to each other. “I think it’s a friends with benefits thing. I don’t know. I never asked. I did have the displeasure of seeing it once, on my living room couch.”

“And you were okay with it?”

“Hell no, I sit on that couch.” He replied before catching Nero’s meaning. “Which part should I have a problem with? Stiles being into guys? My club brother and blood brother being into each other? Or that they are still doing it even though Juice is wanted by the club?”

“Uh, the last one.”

“I told Stiles that I wanted Juice’s location if he had it. That was a stupid decision on my part, because it sent him straight into Juice’s arms.” He should have seen that shit coming. “Stiles is being purposefully defiant.”

“Jax,” Bobby’s voice called from the doorway, where he was leading in a familiar face, Wendy trailing not far behind. “Look who I found.”

“Scott,” He nodded to the younger man. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Jax, uh…” His eyes darted around the room nervously. “Stiles wanted some stuff from Deaton, my boss. I thought it would be quicker if I dropped it off instead of having it shipped. This was the address Stiles gave him.”

“Mountain ash?” He really hoped Scott had a better explanation waiting for Stiles. He was going to be a special kind of pissed off when he saw his friend here.

“Yeah, I unhitched the trailer and left it by the jeep.” He nodded back toward the door.

“There is a trailer full of mountain ash?” That seemed a bit excessive.

“When it comes to the supernatural it’s better to prepared.” Scott shrugged. He looked incredibly out place in the warehouse, surrounded by bikers and porn stars. “You know about werewolves now.”

“You are a werewolf now.” Scott smiled, nodding his head. “How did that happen?”

“We went looking for a dead body in the preserve. A rogue alpha bit me. It was totally Stiles idea.” He replied looking more than a little sheepish.

“It usually is.” It did not faze him at all that his brother would traipsing around the woods looking for a body. “Stiles isn’t here right now.”

“Oh, that’s um… probably a good thing. He and I got into an argument earlier.” He wanted to call bullshit on that. Stiles and Scott did not argue. They bickered like old ladies. “An argument about your meeting with the Calaveras.”

“It was nothing more than information swap. If it was anything more than that I’m sure Stiles would have given you a heads up.” If he felt he needed too. “Is that why you really came here? You wanted to talk to me about the Calaveras?”

“No, that’s not why I came.” Scott’s eyes blazed red as he focused his attention entirely on Jax. “Stiles is your brother, but he’s my brother too.”

“I know.” He had never denied Scott’s place in Stiles life.

“We just got him back. I won’t lose him again. I won’t lose him to all of this.” He gestured to the room at large.

“I would never ask Stiles to give up his life to be a part of this.” He wanted to ask what Scott meant when he said they had just gotten him back. Where did they get him back from?

“You don’t have to ask him. He’ll come willingly, for you or for one of the kids.” He smiled sadly. “I’m not trying to say that you guys are less important than the pack, I just… Stiles stepped into a pool of gasoline, while I was holding a lit flare, to stop me from killing myself. I’m just trying to do the same for him.”

“You’re a good brother, Scott.”

* * *

 

Stiles thought at first that he must have been hallucinating when he saw Deaton’s work truck leaving Red Woody’s parking lot as he maneuvered the Volvo into a space. Unfortunately, the trailer sitting beside his jeep told him that it was real, and that someone from Beacon Hills had come to Charming, though he doubted it was the vet.

“What are you going to tell Jax about our little trip?” Gemma asked as they exited the vehicle.

“We were visiting grandpa. Why would Jax care about that?” If he sold her out then she would sell him out in return and he didn’t need that right now. It was easier to come up with a lie.

The club was getting their morning caffeine fix with a shot of whiskey mix, looking right at home in the porn studio as they came in. Jax shot him a wary glance as he watched them. He attempted to appear calm and casual but the look of suspicion that replaced the wariness told him that had had failed miserably.

“Was someone here?”

“Lots of people have been here.” Chibs replied, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“From Beacon Hills.” He clarified.

“Your brother.”

“Oh.” Fucking Scott, he was usually the one to respect Stiles wishes, not go against them.

“He was dropping off the stuff you wanted.” Jax explained. “Where the hell have you two been?”

“I told you I was going to see dad.” Gemma pasted on a smile, leaning over to kiss Jax’s cheek. “I had some car trouble on the way.”

“I picked her up and drove her to Oregon. We stayed at Nate’s old place for the night.” Obviously, if she had car trouble he would be her first call. There was no reason for anyone to be suspicious. No reason at all.

“You picked her up?” His brother questioned skeptically and Stiles became acutely aware of how close he and Gemma were standing to each other, shoulder-to-shoulder. “You drove to Nate’s together?”

“That’s what I said.” He bounced on the balls of his feet, feeling pent up energy course through him.

“You called Stiles to come and get you? Why not Rogue River or someone else?” No one missed the disbelief in Jax’s voice.

“I didn’t want to bother anyone else and I thought it would do him some good to see his granddad.” She replied sweetly, draping an arm over Stiles shoulder and pulling him close, which was most definitely the wrong thing to do if they were trying to be believable.

“Tell me you didn’t kill anyone.” The previous skepticism was gone, a hard glare taking its place.

“What?” He understood that he and Gemma were overselling the _we can be nice to each other_ thing, but he didn’t think they were being that shady.

“The last time Gemma took someone up to Nate’s house, they whacked the caretaker.” Jax shot his mother a pointed look.

“What?” He repeated, side eyeing the older woman.

“That was an accident.” She huffed in annoyance.

“I don’t think that word means what you think it means.” He took a careful step away from her.

“I’ll ask again,” The blond started. “Did you kill someone?”

“Like, today?” Stiles questioned innocently.

“’ _Like, today?_ ’” Jax echoed back in alarm.

“Christ, Jax, he was kidding.” She told her oldest son. “We did not murder or harm anyone.”

“You did something.”

“Now why would you assume – “

“Yesterday Stiles was jumping down my throat because you pissed him off the night before.” Stiles scoffed, he wouldn’t say he jumped down his brothers throat, but he may have been a little argumentative. “Now, you two are acting all buddy-buddy.”

“Maybe we decided to try and get along, for your sake.” He offered.

“Maybe you did.” Jax nodded, a serene smile overtaking his face.

“Uh-oh.” That smile could not mean anything good.

“Since you are getting along so well,” Stiles felt Gemma tense beside him. “You two are going to spend some quality time together.”

“We are not getting along.” He took back his original statement. “I promise. No getting along for Gemma and Stiles.”

“We drove to and from Nate’s without a problem.” Gemma supplied, and Stiles fought not to call them both out on their bullshit lie, just to get out of whatever the hell Jax had planned for them.

“We dislike each other very much. Just the other night the animosity was so bad that we scared your baby biker.” He jerked a thumb toward Rat.

“Baby biker?” Rat sputtered indignantly.

“Since I don’t expect this to last long, I intend to take full advantage.” That did not sound good. “I think we should give Nero what he asked for.”

“Uh…” The man looked confused as all eyes turned on him. “What?”

“Family dinner.” If possible Jax’s smile got even brighter and more devious than before.

“Nope.” Stiles shook his head.

“You asked for a family dinner? I thought you were the smart one, dude.” Wendy looked at Nero with disappointment.

“I didn’t know they didn’t get along.”

“Rookie mistake, bro.”

“It’ll be great.” Jax said, nodding to himself. “Just us, the boys, Nero and Wendy – “

“Oh no. No. No. No.” Wendy held up her hands. “I have to go to a meeting.”

“You just went to a meeting.” If he had to go then she did to.

“Another one.”

“You can go to a later one. I’ll even drive you myself.” Jax suggested.

“Do I have to cook?” She resigned herself to her fate.

“Stiles and Gemma are going to cook. Together.“ That settled it. Jax was a sadistic bastard.

“You think if you smack us together enough we’ll get so irritated with one another that we'll crack?” This was Jax’s way of figuring out what he and Gemma were up to.

“Yep.”

“That… is a good idea.” He was bound to have one eventually. “Damn it. Seven work for everyone?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Awesome.” He threw his brother an exaggerated smile. “I’m leaving. I need to make use of those materials from Deaton.”

“I need to talk to you before you head out.” Jax stopped Stiles.

“We’ve been talking.” That was all they had been doing.

“Privately. At the table.” He nodded toward the room they had designated for church.

“Yeah, okay.”

He expected it to be only he and Jax, but as he walked toward their destination he noticed the Sons following closely. Anxiety trickled up his spine as the doors were slammed closed behind them. The club all took their chairs, Jax naturally at the head of the table.

“Have a seat.” His brother nodded to the open spot on Chibs left.

“Shit.” He sighed, dropping down into the seat that previously belonged to Juice. “This is nice. Very official-like. Why am I at the table?”

“You don’t like getting tangled up in club business.” He had said that numerous times the day before. “But, you tend to get involved without a fight when it has to do with one person.”

“I get it involved for more than just him.” Just the other day he orchestrated a ammunition buy for all of them. “I don’t like getting involved. It does not mean I won’t. Let’s just get down to why I’m actually at the table.”

“You’ve been helping Juice.”

“That hasn’t been a secret.” He told Jax point blank that he would help Juice if he could. “I’m not handing him over to you. If you thought surrounding me with club members and trying to make me feel threatened would change my mind, then you are all stupider than you look.”

“No one is threatening you, boy.” Chibs assured him. “We know you’re protecting him because he’s you’re friend, not because you want to go against us.”

“Yeah, silly me, believing my friends life is worth more than a club that is willing to kill every time they get their feelings hurt.” He shot back.

“That’s not – “ Happy started, but shut up when his president raised a hand to silence him.

“We want to make a deal with Juice. That is why you are here.” If Jax didn’t have his full attention before, he had it now. “He wants to keep his patch, we’re willing to let that happen.”

“At what cost? His life?” Juice would probably take the deal, no matter what had to give up, if it meant he kept his reaper.

“We don’t want him dead. We need him to do something for us. He does it, he gets his life back. He gets his family back.” That is what it would always come down to for Juice, before the reality of what the club was set in. Family was everything. “I don’t want to tell you what we need him to do. I need you to have plausible deniability.”

“So, you want him to kill someone.”

“If he does this for us, then he can come home.” Bobby said, which did nothing to mollify the dread Stiles felt.

“How do I know you’re not lying to me? I tell Juice to do this and then he ends up in an unmarked grave.” He looked at Jax, but saw the Sons of Anarchy’s president rather than his brother. “Do not make me an accomplice in your vendetta.”

“We are not going to kill him or have him killed.” Jax attempted to reassure him. “You have the clubs word.”

“SAMCRO’s word doesn’t mean anything to me.” It didn’t mean anything to their members or allies. Everyone was screwed over eventually. “I want your word, Jackson. If I do this and he dies, that blood coats my hands, because I’m giving him to you.”

“I promise you, he won’t die on my order.”

“If you are lying to me then that is it, Jax. I’m done with this.” He wanted to believe Jax was telling him the truth, but he couldn’t just take that on faith. Jax needed to understand what could happen if he betrayed Stiles trust. “Completely done.”

“Considering you are not part of the club – “ Tig spoke up but was quickly cut off.

“I’m not talking about the Sons of Anarchy.” If the stricken look on his brothers face meant anything, it was that he understood Stiles meaning exactly.

“It needs to happen soon.”

“Fine.”

“Give him this.” Chibs slid a folded paper to him. “He’ll know what to do.”

“Since we’re passing notes in study hall, anything else you want me to give him from you, Chibs?” He smirked at the older man, trying to lighten the mood. “Do you want me to ask if he still like-like’s you? Or should we just go with declaration of your undying yet forbidden love?”

“The note is enough for now.” Killjoy.

“One kill order en route.” He said was sarcastic enthusiasm.

“Gemma is attached to your hip today.” Jax reminded him.

“I hope you appreciate the emotional turmoil you put me through.”

* * *

 

“Jordan,” Scott greeted the older man. “We were wondering if we could see Stiles friend Juice.”

“I don’t have anyone here by that name.” He checked the computer. “If I did, I couldn’t let you back there.”

“It’s Ortiz,” Derek said, pointing to the name on the screen. “Juice is his nickname.”

“Still can’t let you see him. He’s waiting on the DA’s approval before we can let him leave.”

“It will only be for a second.” The Alpha promised. “It’s not even about his case. It’s about Stiles.”

“Scott – “

“We think he is a danger to Stiles. If something happens to Stiles, because of him, it will devastate the Sheriff.” Derek explained.

“I’m not even a werewolf and I can tell you’re lying.” Parrish grumbled while Derek looked affronted by the idea that he would lie to law enforcement.

“Okay, we are lying.” Scott admitted but turned on the puppy dog eyes. “It’s for a really good reason, though. It will only take a few minutes.”

“Fine.” Parrish glared, snatching up his keys. “Let’s make this quick.”

“Oh and if you see Stiles or the Sheriff, please do not tell them about this.”

* * *

 

“Parrish, my buddy, my pal,” Stiles addressed the man as he and Gemma entered the bullpen. “My favorite deputy.”

“What do you need Stiles?” Parrish already seemed exasperated by his presence, which was crap, because he had only been there for two seconds. The deputy needed to build a better tolerance if he was going to last at this particular Sheriff’s department. “Your dad isn’t here.”

“I just need to see someone you have in holding.” He wanted it to seem like a request, but he was getting back there one way or another, he was fairly certain Jordan knew that. “Juan Carlos Ortiz.”

“Popular person today.” Stiles furrowed his brows, wondering who else had been to see Juice besides his dad. “I can’t let you see him until the officials are done with him.”

“I do not have the patience to talk you in circles today.” He snatched the deputy’s keys, which should have been on his belt, from the desk. “Just turn your head the other way and pretend you never saw me. This is Gemma, by the way. Don’t look her directly in the eye and you may not turn to stone. That was not a euphemism, that was me implying that she was Medusa.”

He stalked away before Parrish had a chance to respond. He passed his father’s empty office as he walked back toward the holding cells. Juice was the only one occupying this area of the station, since he was considered low risk there was nothing more than a security camera watching him, though Stiles knew one of the deputies did checks every fifteen minutes. Normally there would be someone in there full-time, but they didn’t have enough deputies or the funding to hire anyone since the reconstruction of the station after the explosion.

“There he is,” He announced himself loudly to the older man, who was sitting on the bed with his knees drawn to his chest, looking bored out of his skull. “My sun and stars. Moon of –“

“If you say ' _moon of my life_ ' I will reach through these bars and smack you.” Juice threatened as he stood up and walked toward said bars.

“I would deserve that smack. That line is tired.” It was all the rage since the Game of Thrones came out. “I’ll think of something more original for next time. How’s the clink treating you?”

“It’s a lot nicer than the other jails I’ve been in.” He shrugged. “It’s still jail.”

“Fret not, my dear, I come bearing orders from the House of Crow.” Stiles handed the paper over. “Jax said if you did that, then you could keep your patch and come home when it’s over.”

“I can go home?” The smile that graced Juice’s face was enough to make Stiles weak in the knees and break his heart at the same time. “Tell Jax that I will do it.”

“I need you to do something for me first.”

“Name it.”

“Tell me everything I did not want to know before.” If he was sending Juice to do the clubs bidding, then he needed to know why they ended up in this position in the first place. Objectivity be damned.

“Are you sure?” He had been ready to tell Stiles the other day, now he seemed hesitant.

“Yes.”

“Fuck, Stiles.” Juice moved away, sitting back down on the bed, head in his hands. “You are going to be pissed off and truly disgusted with me.”

“I have Jax Teller for a brother and Gemma’s blood running through my veins. I know all of the shit they have done and I can still look them in the eye.” He would admit that the more brutal things got, the harder it was to be in the same room with them. “There is nothing you can say that could possibly horrify me.”

“The cameras – “

“Don’t have sound.” They barely had enough money to finish remodeling the place, they didn’t have the funds for camera’s with microphones in them just yet.

“I tied a woman to a bed and shot her up with heroin.” Juice lifted his eyes to meet his. “I smothered her with a pillow while she was riding her high.”

“I’m going to need some context.” He tried to keep his face void of all emotion. He didn’t have the right to be shocked by Juice’s behavior. He knew what the club was capable of.

“That school shooting a few months ago, the boy used one of our guns. His mom, Darvany, was the girlfriend of Nero’s cousin. That’s how the boy got the gun.” Nero’s cousin was an idiot for leaving a gun out where a kid could get to it. “We took Darvany up to the cabin, so she couldn’t talk to the cops.”

“So, you neutralized the threat.” It was the SAMCRO specialty after all. “Why didn’t Tig or Happy do it?”

“I was still trying to earn my way back, earn back Jax’s trust after this other thing.” Jax had exploited Juice’s need for acceptance and forgiveness. “I don’t think any of the other guys knew. I know Nero didn’t.”

“I’m not even going to ask what the other thing was.” One secret at a time. “You did what Jax wanted, so that doesn’t explain why he wanted you dead.”

“Killing Darvany, killing her that way, it fucked me up.” The older man got a faraway look in his eyes. “I went to Diosa one night, took some pills to try and forget. I took too many.”

“You overdosed.” He deduced.

“Nero and Gem found me. Nero took care of me. While I was still out of it, I confessed. I told him what I did.”

“He told Jax.” He probably left out the part about the OD, not that it would have changed Jax’s mind about the situation. “Jax took it as a betrayal.”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome.” Now that he knew the truth, he almost regretted asking. “You know that you don’t have to do what he is asking you to do.”

“I need to.”

“Of course you do.” He wasn’t going to disappoint him by pointing out that Jax, and by proxy the club, would never trust him again, despite what he was willing to do. “Try not to get hurt or killed doing what they want.”

“I’ll be in prison, so getting hurt will likely happen.” That did not make him feel better at all. “I've been in Stockton before, I know how it works there. I’ll be fine, Stiles.”

“You are a lying prick.” Stiles grumbled. “I gotta go, Gemma’s waiting.”

“You brought Gemma?”

“It’s a long story. It is all Jax’s fault, though.” Psychological warfare is what it was. “I’ll come visit you at Stockton in a few days.”

“I’m not sure they’ll let me have visitors.” As if that would stop him.

“I will find a way. Stay safe.” He let that be there goodbye, it was easier than saying the word outright.

He took his time walking back into the bullpen. He tried to reign in the feeling that he just signed Juice’s death warrant. He had to believe that Jax wasn’t going to screw him over.

“Hey, I didn’t know this was your mom.” Parrish pointed to Gemma.

“What? No.” He whipped his head to face the woman in question. “Stop telling people that. I reach a new level of shame with every person that finds out.”

“Stop being such a drama queen.” She retorted. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

* * *

 

He waited for Patterson on a bench in the courtyard of the DA building. He had arrived a little earlier than expected, deciding to check his messages while he waited. Had had two voicemails from Parrish, telling him that not only had Stiles dropped in to see Juice, but Scott and Derek had as well. He also had a text message from his son telling him that if someone was murdered at the family dinner tonight, then he should not be held accountable because it was entirely Jax’s fault.

“John Stilinski,” The woman smiled as she approached, pulling his attention from his phone. “It’s been a long time. I believe you were still a deputy the last time we met.”

“I think I was, yeah. You were an ADA back then.” It felt like a long time ago. Hell, it was a long time ago. “How are you, Tyne?”

“I’m well, and you?”

“I’m alright, keeping busy. Would you like to sit down?” He nodded to the spot next to him.

“I assume there is a reason you wanted to meet me out here rather than my office?” She asked as she settled down beside him.

“Your office has eyes and ears everywhere.” He joked but she wasn’t laughing. “I wanted to keep this unofficial for now.”

“What’s going on, John?” Right down to business, he expected nothing less.

“I have someone you’re looking for at my station.” She gave him an inquisitive look, gesturing for him to continue. “Juan Carlos Ortiz turned himself into me early this morning.”

“That is a surprise.” He thought it might be. “Why would he go all the way to Beacon Hills for that?”

“He knows me, trusts me. He’s a friend of my son.” Juice never would have gone to Beacon Hills without Stiles insistence. “Stiles is –“

“Jax Teller’s half brother.” It was his turn to be surprised. “His name, and yours, came up several times during my talks with Tara Knowles. I’m well aware of your connection to the Sons of Anarchy, John.”

“Juan Carlos came to me because he was afraid of the repercussions he would face had he gone to Lt. Jarry.” There were consequences coming to him as well, but his were of the legal stature, not the kind that would leave Juice in a shallow grave.

“She only wants to question him about the Knowles murder. Running only makes him look more suspicious.” He was a member of SAMCRO, which made him suspicious no matter what the crime.

“He was running from the MC the night Tara was killed. He’s been running.”

“He should have explained that to Lt. Jarry.”

“She would have turned him over to the club.” That seemed to strike a chord in the DA.

“Why would you say that?” Explaining that would be difficult, seeing as he had little proof to corroborate his theory. “Is there something I should know?”

“I have reason to believe she is taking money from SAMCRO.” According to Stiles, who had not seen the money exchange, but had more or less gotten confirmation from Jax that one had taken place at some point. “At the very least she’s doing favors for them.”

“How do you know this?”

“My son told me.” While he believed Stiles, he doubted his kids statement would mean much to her. “The Sons have a history of pushing the right buttons to get law enforcement on their side.”

“I’m aware of that.” Which side of the board Wayne Unser had played on during his time as Chief was never a secret. Now it seemed like Jarry was picking up the slack he left behind. “Why does your son think Jarry is dirty? Did he witness something? Did Jax tell him?”

“There was a break in at his brothers house, he was the only one there at the time.” It was best to leave the kids out of the equation for now. “Stiles got pretty beat up. No cops ever showed up at the house. The Sheriff questioned him at the clubs ice cream shop the next day, but could not be bothered to send a patrol car the night before. She knew it was retaliation and didn’t bother to investigate further. If she’s not taking money from the club, then she just doesn’t care about the violence taking place in the town she’s responsible for.”

“Would Stiles be willing to talk to me?”

“I don’t know.”

“This is very important. If I have a dirty sheriff in place – “

“You need to understand what Stiles is risking by coming forward with the information he has.” It was not just about protecting Juice. It was about making sure innocents were not caught in the crossfire because Charming's police department refused to perform their duties correctly.

“Why is he coming forward? Isn’t that against his brother’s code of conduct?”

“The upside of my son having an outlaw for a brother and a sheriff for a father, is that he has never been blind to the things Jax has done. He has seen right and wrong play out from both sides of his family. The down side is he has to make decisions like this one.” Making the morally right decision could mean sending Jax or one of his friends in Charming to prison for the rest of their lives. “Stiles may be Jax’s brother, but bringing this to me, having me bring this to you, is still going to be seen as a betrayal. He may not lose his life or freedom, like a club member would, but he could still lose his family.”

“I understand that your son is in a precarious position.” Patterson acknowledged. “I would still like to talk to him.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” It would have to be a strictly off the record meeting if she wanted Stiles to say anything. “About Ortiz, I had one of my deputies interview him. I assume you will want to question him yourself?”

“Yes, I would.” She agreed. “I could come up to Beacon Hills to do it. Ortiz may be more willing to speak if he feels safe.”

“He’s going to cooperate.” He made sure of that. “It would be better if he didn’t return to Charming. It would be dangerous for him if the Sons found out that he was in Beacon Hills. What will you tell Lt. Jarry?”

“I’ll tell her that Juan Carlos turned himself into me directly.” He had no reason to do that, but hopefully Jarry had too much on her plate to care.

“Alright.”

“John, I’m taking a lot of this on faith and your word. You haven’t given me any physical proof about Jarry, but I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, for now.” He appreciated that. “If I open an investigation on her and find nothing, then I will be looking at you and your son.”

“I understand.”

* * *

 

Stiles had decided to forgo supernatural-proofing Jax’s house for the day, opting to catch up on sleep instead. They headed to Gemma’s house, after the woman made a good point of saying they wouldn’t get any rest at Red Woody with the amount of people running around there. He had passed out in the guest room as soon as he head hit the pillow and woke up a few hours later to the incessant sound of squawking filling the house.

“Oh my god.” He buried his head into the pillow. “Stupid birds.”

He stumbled out of bed, nearly face planting when he tripped over his shoes. Miraculously, he managed to pull on his jeans and sneakers without injuring himself, before heading toward the sound of what would be dinner if they did not shut up.

“We are not cooking African crows for dinner.” Gemma said as he entered the open bedroom door.

“I said that out loud?”

“Mm-hmm.” She replied as she fed the birds.

“Oops.” He scrubbed his eyes, trying to remove the crusted sleep.

“The club called off lock down. Nero and Wendy will be here soon with the boys.” So, it was back to cramming themselves in Gemma’s house until they fixed Jax’s. “Your brother should be by not long after. We should figure out what we’re having for dinner. The birds are not an option.”

“I bet they taste just like chicken.”

“We would eat out of the trash can before we ate my crows.” She probably meant that too.

“I used to hate your birds.” He chuckled under his breath as he watched her dote on them. She showed more affection toward them then she did most people. “On those nights when Jax would bring me here for dinner, when I was little, and I tried so hard to get your attention… You were so focused on those damn birds.”

The two currently occupying the cage were not the same ones he held resentment for as a kid. Gemma tended to own cockatoos, then moved on to cockatiels, one named Clay if he wasn’t mistaken. Now she had crows, which suited her better he supposed.

“Different times then, baby.” Gemma murmured. “You hadn’t learned to hate me yet.”

“You hadn’t given me a reason to yet.” He had plenty of them now. “I didn’t know who you were to me then. You hadn’t ruined my mother’s funeral yet.”

“I didn’t ruin the funeral. I ruined the wake.” She corrected, moving away from him to sit on the bed.

“You ruined me.”

Things could have turned out differently. If his dad had never met and married Claudia, hadn’t given him the mother he had no idea he wanted, then he might have welcomed Gemma’s confession. It was possible that if Claudia had never died that he still would have been okay with the idea of having two moms. Telling him at at his mother's funeral, stole something from him that he had never been able to get back.

“It wasn’t my best decision.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Telling you who I was? No. Telling you at the time? Yes.” Well that was something at least. “You’ve been holding on to that hate for a long time, sweetheart.”

“That’s not why I don’t like you, Gem. It’s not the only reason.” It was in the top five though.

“What other reason could you possibly have?” It wasn’t a long list, shockingly, but the things on it were bad enough that he could hold those grudges for a lifetime.

“I use to hate you because of Jax.” He admitted, turning away from the birds to face her.

“I don’t follow.”

“I blamed you for him not being around. I thought if you were out of the picture then he could stay in Beacon Hills with me.” He even went as far as to ask if dad if Jax could move in with them.

“I use to think you would take him from me. Still do actually.” Truth was, Jax was never there’s, just like he wasn’t Tara’s. He always belonged to the MC. “You are more like me than you will ever admit.”

“Unfortunately, that is true.” However, he would refute that claim until his dying day. “You’re not going to lose Jax because of me. You are going to lose him because of your own mistakes.”

“What mistakes?”

“The reason you want Juice dead.” Here it was, the moment he laid his cards on the table. “He knows something you don’t want him to know, something that can destroy your relationship with Jax.”

“You know it too.” Whatever friendliness they had after their little heart-to-heart was gone now. “Did you figure it out on your own or did Juice tell you?”

“I figured it out. I’m pretty smart. You are the only one with enough anger to deliver that level of brutality to her.” Even Jax couldn’t reach that level of rage until after he lost Tara. “I get it though. Tara was a threat to you. She had to die. Then Juice got twitchy. You thought he would turn on you to save his own ass. So he had to go. That just leaves me, I guess.”

“You have always been a threat, Nathaniel.” He tried not to bristle at the name, it wasn’t that he hated it, it was that she was the only one who used it. “Knowing what I did to Tara doesn’t change that. You are not going to tell Jax.”

“I’m not?”

“It would break his heart.” His heart was already irreparably damaged. “You wouldn’t do that to him. You know, just as well as I do, that we both played our parts in Tara’s downfall. You only have the words of a traitor to back up your story. I have documents that prove your betrayal.”

“I don’t tell Jax that you killed his wife and you don’t give him what you have on me.” When the hell did he lose control of this situation? “Is that the deal you are trying to make with me?”

“No deals, baby.” She stood up, straightening out her clothes, looking the very picture of composed. “Just a simple understanding. We want to keep Jax close, to do that we have to keep our mouths shut.”

“I want to keep Jax and his kids safe. If I have to stay quiet about what you did to do that, then I will.” For the time being, but not for long. “The truth will come out, Gem. It always does.”

* * *

 

“How’s it going?” Jax asked as he walked into the relatively silent house.

“They are passive aggressively dishing out Tai food.” Wendy explained.

“They were supposed to cook.”

“Pick your battles, Jax.” She admonished. “At least they’re getting along.”

“They are up to something.” It was obvious and nothing good could come from it.

“Well yeah, but you really think making them cook and spend time together is going to help you figure out what that is?” It would more than likely end in bloodshed before the truth came out.

“I think you two are overreacting.” Nero cut in, receiving identical glares for his troubles.

“When you have spent eighteen years watching those two go for each other’s jugulars,” Okay, maybe not eighteen years, they only started arguing like cats and dogs when Stiles hit puberty. “Then you can tell me I’m overreacting.”

“Are you three done gossiping like old whores?” Gemma stood at the kitchen counter, hands on her hips. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Slave over hot take-out, Ma?”

“You’re an ungrateful little shit.” She retorted halfheartedly.

“Hey,” He grabbed his brother by the arm, stopping him from sitting down. “You give Juice our offer?”

“Yeah. He accepted.” Stiles did not look to happy about it. “What you need him to do will get done.”

“Good.”

“Sit the fuck down, you two.” Gemma ordered. “It’s time to eat.”

“Here we go.” Jax sighed. “Dinner with mom.”

Gemma took her spot at the head of table in the dining room once the food was set out. Wendy and Nero sat across from each other in the middle, leaving the two chairs closest to the matriarch open, which Stiles and Jax unwittingly took.

“Where are the boys?” They were noticeably absent from the table.

“They ate already. Thomas is down for his nap and Abel’s watching a movie in his room.” Wendy said as she took her plate. “I didn’t want them to witness this particular brand of crazy.”

“Smart move.”

It had been a long time since they had a family dinner, even one that consisted of club members only. The tension in the room was normal, considering the attendees. The way his mother and brother were continuously glancing at each other, as if they were taking cues from one another, put Jax on edge. It made him wish for something stronger than the beer he was drinking.

“So, Stiles, you’re starting college in the fall?” Nero broke the silence and Jax felt like he had been sucked into an alternate universe where they had small talk that did not involve their illegal activities.

“Yeah, I got a full ride to Berkeley.” He did a little dance in his seat, clearly proud of himself.

“Do you know what you’re going to major in?”

“Criminal Justice. I’m gonna be a cop like my dad.” The first time Stiles had said that he was just learning to read, it pleased Jax that his dream hadn’t changed in that time.

“You will make a great cop, baby.” Gemma praised and Jax’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

“Are you on drugs?” He asked his mother.

“Isn’t she usually?” Stiles quipped.

“I still think you would make a better Son.” Gemma added and Jax felt himself relax a little.

“And I think you would look better in a padded cell.” Stiles quipped with a bright smile. “Difference is I might actually get to see that, whereas you will never see me wearing a kutte.”

“I have a picture of you wearing Jax’s kutte when you were a kid.” Wendy admitted with a smirk. “You looked adorable.”

“I want that picture.” Gemma said quickly.

“I have that picture in my wallet.” He chuckled.

“Be honest, how adorable was I?”

“You had this big smile, two missing front teeth, a SONS t-shirt and the kutte.” Wendy smiled. “You looked like a little kid trying on Daddy’s clothes.”

“That kind of fits, actually. I’m pretty sure that for a while Jax’s neighbors thought I was his kid.” It made for some very interesting conversations over the years.

“Still do. One stopped me the other day saying how glad they were to see my oldest son around town, and that he looks just like his grandma.” Jax laughed to himself while Stiles pulled a face.

“How did I not know about this picture?” Gemma asked.

“Stiles had to have been about six or seven when it was taken.” He estimated. “You were still denying his existence then.”

“I never denied that Stiles was my son.” She argued.

“No, you just didn’t acknowledge it for eight years of his life.” He meant for it to be a joke, but it came out much harsher than originally intended. “Then you decided it would be a great idea to bring it up at his mother’s funeral.”

“You are intentionally trying to start shit.” Wendy scolded.

“I’m trying to restore balance to the universe.”

“Give it up, Jax.” Stiles suggested. “Your attempts to break us, through the power of bonding, have failed. You should focus your talents elsewhere.”

“Or, you could just tell me what I want to know.”

“Or, you could enjoy the peace while it’s here.”

“Or, you could – “ Jax was cut off by Wendy before he could continue.

“Stiles,” The older woman smiled at him. “Please, in a complete change of topic, because some of us don’t care what ulterior motive you and Gemma might have, tell us how your senior year was.”

“Busy.” He shrugged. “Stressful. School was actually a walk in the park compared to all the other crap.”

“Be more specific before Jax starts in on you again.” She urged him on. “What other crap? Supernatural? Personal?”

“Uh, both.”

“Specifics, dude.” She repeated. “Like um… did you go to prom?”

“No.” He answered. “Thankfully, I was busy that day.”

“Busy with what?”

“Berserkers.” He said before his face contorted in confusion. “Wait – when was prom? It might have been during our first trip to Mexico. I don’t know. It was one of those two.”

“Did you date anyone?”

“Yes.”

“Girl or guy?” Wendy fired off the question in rapid succession with his answer.

“Girl.” He leaned back in his chair. “Why so interested in me?”

“Because, you are rarely in Charming and I miss you.” Stiles looked away, blush coloring his cheeks.

“Can you ask something that isn’t about school or my past relationships?”

“What is the worst thing your pack has gone up against since you learned about the supernatural?” Jax asked, regretting it when Stiles face went completely blank.

“Nogitsune.” He said firmly, as if there could never be another answer. “An evil fox spirit.”

“What did it do?”

“A lot of damage.” Stiles reached for the open beer beside his plate and took a long swig. “It killed a lot of people.”

* * *

 

“Wayne,” Jarry waved him into her office. “Do you know a Mieczysław Stilinski?”

“I don’t think so.” He responded, lying through his teeth. “Why?”

“He was the only person, beside’s a lawyer, that Tara Knowles allowed to visit her while she was in jail.” She handed over the visitation log from the facility Tara had been held in. “She wouldn’t let her own husband visit her, but she let this guy. You think he could have information about her murder?”

“I don’t know.” If Jarry hadn’t made the connection between Nathaniel Teller and Mieczysław Stilinski yet, she would as soon as she ran the name and saw the drivers license photo. “Why don’t you keep working the Chinese angle and I’ll look into this Stilinski kid.”

“Let me know what you find.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Nathaniel/Mieczysław thing will be explained further in an upcoming chapter.  
> [TUMBLR](http://www.stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/)  
> [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/user/SandM1827/)  
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos, they are greatly appreciated.  
> Holy shit SOA is over. Thoughts on the finale or past episodes?


	7. You Handle Your Own When You Become A Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd for now.  
> Chapter title froms from Till It's Gone by Yelawolf.  
> Gif set that goes with this chapter: [Almost Time for Confession.](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/105657924834/mama-gemma-au-its-almost-time-for-confession)  
> You know there was a bit I wrote for this chapter about why Juice acts happier or more like his old self around Stiles, rather then incredibly depressed like he is in season 7. In my excitement to actually post the chapter I forgot to add that in. By the time I realized it the chapter had been up a few hours some had already read it so I didn't want to change anything. I'll try to find a place for it in another chapter. Sorry about that.

Thomas waking up was probably the best thing that happened to Stiles all night. He got to excuse himself from the table, having long since finished his meal, to retrieve the kid. He wasn’t allowed to hide out in the nursery, Jax would find him and usher him back out if he tried. Instead, he opted to plop himself down on the sofa with his youngest nephew curled up in his arms.

“How you doing?” Nero asked as he sat down beside him on the couch.

“I’m fine.” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the older man, wondering why the hell he was with him when Gemma was still sitting beside Jax and Wendy at the table. “How are you?”

“Good. It was an interesting dinner.”

“Yeah.” That dinner was pretty tame considering the ones they usually had. “We don’t have them often. We save the fireworks for holidays.”

“You come down for the holidays?”

“No.” He showed up on Christmas Eve to hand over gifts for the kids but that was it.

“Hmm.” Nero seemed to study him for a minute, eyes glancing to look at the infant resting in his arms before looking up again. “You’re good with him. You ever think about having any of your own?”

“I’m eighteen.”

“I don’t mean now. I mean when you’re older.” Good god, he was trying to get to know him. Didn’t he learn enough at dinner?

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” He liked Nero, he did, but he did not appreciate this attempt at bonding, but he would play along. “Do you have kids?”

“I got a son. He’s disabled. He lives in a home.” To his credit, he did not pull out his wallet to show Stiles a picture.

“You love your son?”

“More than anything in this world.” Jax could say the same thing about his kids but in the end, the words did not really mean much if your actions could not back them up.

“Then what are you still doing here?” Why would he put himself and his son’s lives at risk?

“What?”

“Why haven’t you taken your kid and gotten the hell out of town?” Any sensible person would.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Sure it is.” He would simplify it for him. “You love your son. You want him to be safe. You should have been long gone by now. Instead, you are burying yourself deeper into this shit and putting your kid right in the line of fire.”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder.” Tara tried and it did not get her very far.

“My uncle has a ranch in Norco. He’s going to sell it to me. I’m gonna get it set up for my son and I’m going up there. I’m still working out how to convince Gem to go with me.”

“That’s a good idea.” He approved. “The taking your kid up to the ranch part at least. I’m not too sure how Gemma would do on a ranch. She doesn’t do well with isolation or nature.”

“She will learn to love it.” He was delusional.

“If she says no?”

“I will have to understand. We'll make it work.”

“How are you so sure?”

“I love Gemma. I know she isn’t best person in the world.” Understatement. “But I don’t think anyone has ever loved me like she has. I don’t think I have ever loved anyone the way I love her. I have to hold on to that, to believe it’s worth it.”

“You need to be careful when it comes to loving Gemma.”

“I’m not gonna break her heart, kid.”

“That’s not what I meant.” It was kind of the other way around.

“I know how bloody it ended for Gemma’s husbands and how it ended for Tara.” Significant others did not have a long life span in this life. “That is exactly why I need to hold onto her. I don’t know how long either of us has with the way things are going. I need to hold on to that love for as long as it’s offered.”

“I hope it’s worth it.” He gave the older man a smile and held Thomas out to him. “Take him for me?”

“Yeah sure.” Nero took the infant gently in to his arms while Stiles stood.

“I’m going out.” He grabbed the keys to the jeep from the table by the door, hoping to make a quick exit.

“Gemma goes with you.” Jax’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Let me think about that,” He put a finger to his lips and looked at Gemma thoughtfully before turning back to Jax. “No.”

“Stiles – “

“I’m going to leave, by myself, to see Juice. I am incredibly doubtful that I will be back tonight. We can continue your foray into psychological torture tomorrow or never. My vote is on never.” He walked out before Jax could respond, hearing Wendy’s throaty laugh before he closed the door.

* * *

 

He was stuck between Stiles ex-girlfriend and his ex-crush on the couch. He didn’t know how it happened, but remembers telling them that he would be happy to sit on the floor, considering the lack of seating in the loft. He was ninety-eight percent sure that the pushy redhead had shoved him into place and the coyote had already been sitting when his ass met the cushion. Being confined to a small area with the two of them wasn’t awkward at all. However, it was a little unnerving to be openly gawked at for no apparent reason by a good portion of the group.

Juice liked Stiles friends. He really did. They were all nice, if not a little bat-shit insane. He figured you had to be a bit out of your mind to deal with the things they saw. He liked them, respected what they were trying to do for their town. He was sure they liked him to, or some of them did.

He and Derek had become what Stiles would call bros. He was the only one, besides the sheriff, that had gotten stuck with Juice the majority of the time. Stiles had warned him that Derek had a bit of a temper, but had found a zen like state after taking a trip with his sister. Juice had learned to take cues from someone’s body language long before he joined SAMCRO, which made things easier when dealing with the wolf. He knew when it was okay to converse and when the other man needed him to be quiet. In turn, Derek was aware that when Malia came over, it was probably best for him to make himself scarce unless he wanted to learn some very intimate details about Stiles.

And Malia? Oh, he liked Malia. He could see why Stiles did too. After spending some time with her, he could say with absolute certainty that it was nearly impossible for her to filter the things she said. It made for some interesting conversation for them, considering their only common interest was Stiles, and some rather uncomfortable conversation for everyone else. He was pretty sure they had mentally scarred Scott for life when he had walked in on them having a conversation about the wonderful things Stiles could do with his tongue. He had never seen the kid look so scandalized.

He had known Scott before Stiles had dropped him on Derek’s doorstep. He had made plenty of his own trips to Beacon Hills when he and Stiles had become friends. Scott treated him about the same way he always had. He liked him because Stiles liked him, but he didn’t really trust him yet.

The others didn’t seem to mind him one way or another.

Braeden was in and out of the loft, usually on a laptop or cellphone. She would come to talk with Derek and then was out the door again. He learned she was a mercenary early on and decided it was best not to ask too many questions about what she got up to.

Liam kept puffing out his chest at him, like he trying to make himself seem tougher than he was, but he came off more like a skittish Chihuahua that was just let off its leash at a dog park. Juice didn’t really know what to make of the kid.

Kira would shoot him nervous smiles, like she wasn’t afraid of him but she wasn’t entirely comfortable in his presence either.

Lydia looked at him with nothing but irritation, but she was giving everyone else the same look so he assumed it was her default expression.

So, yeah, they were cool, for the most part. He was perfectly fine when John dropped him off with them when Patterson was through with him. Though as the hours past, it became increasingly clear that something had happened within the group. If the questionable glances being sent his way meant anything it was that he was part of the problem, but none of them were going to tell him why.

“You know I appreciate this, but I can get a motel room for the night, or a bus ticket back to Charming. I don’t want to impose any further.” They could easily call bullshit. Most of them could hear the uptick of a lie in his heartbeat. He hoped they would be gracious enough to not point it out and allow him to leave on his merry way. His merry way to park bench, because he didn’t actually have any money, but the bench would be a hell of a lot less awkward than this.

“Stiles is picking you up from here in the morning. There is no point in you leaving when you will just have to come back in a few hours.” Derek said, and here Juice thought they were getting along. Obviously, the last day or so of bonding and getting to know each other meant absolutely nothing to him. He must hate him, because that is the only reason he would keep him hear against his will.

“They will leave eventually.” Braeden’s attempt at reassurance fell flat considering the pack had buckled down with drinks and snacks. They weren’t even wearing shoes. They were a missing pair of pants away from a pajama party.

“I thought we came over to watch a movie.” Liam looked to Derek for confirmation.

“Did you bring a movie?” The older man asked with raised eyebrows.

“No.”

“I guess you’re not watching one.” The youngest of the brood seemed to deflate at that. “You can all go home.”

“If we go then we’ll miss Stiles and he’s been gone forever.” Malia pouted.

“It’s barely been a week.” Derek pointed out. “He won’t be here until morning. Come back then.”

“We are staying. Get over it.” Lydia smiled sweetly, but her eyes promised death if there were any arguments.

“I’m sure this whole need to see Stiles thing has nothing to do with the fact that he’s been keeping secrets about his family.” Braeden looked at the redhead pointedly. “It’s not like you’re going to interrogate him or anything.”

“The pack doesn’t work if we have secrets.” The banshee retorted harshly. “They only complicate things and put us all in danger.”

“You are seriously full of shit.” Juice snapped at her. “Stiles having a brother, that lives hours away, has nothing to do with your packs safety.”

“It does when the brother is part of a criminal organization.” She insisted.

“Stiles has been a brother to the club his entire life, long before he was ever pack. He has never let SAMCRO’s business touch this shithole town you call home.” He felt the air around the tense as the females hackles seemed to rise. “Not once has the clubs shit blown back onto your pack.”

“Until now, because you are here.” He tried not to flinch, because fuck it that wasn’t true. “When is that going to come back to bite us in the ass?”

“It’s not.” There were some benefits to Stiles being the clubs favorite baby brother. “Jax, even at his worst, wouldn’t let Stiles life here get tangled up with his life there. He wouldn’t let anyone Stiles cared about from Beacon Hills get hurt because of him.”

“We’re supposed to take your word for it? We don’t know you. We don’t know Stiles brother either.”

“I do.” Scott piped up. “I know Jax. Kind of. He’s done a pretty good job keeping club stuff away from Beacon Hills. And, it was Stiles choice to bring Juice here. He wouldn’t do that if he thought someone would get hurt because of it.”

“You’re assuming that Stiles was thinking with his upstairs brain when he made that choice.” She scoffed at the very idea that Stiles was capable of making that kind of decision without his heart or penis getting in the way.

“I’m leaving tomorrow, so you don’t have to worry about me bringing you bad fortune.” Though he doubted that was what her objections were about. “I’ll be gone but Stiles will always be connected to the Sons of Anarchy. Is that going to be a problem for you? Do you plan to bitch him out over something he has no control over?”

“I –“

“Let’s be real, this has absolutely nothing to do with Stiles keeping his family a secret, or that I’m a criminal.” This being the obvious contempt she had for him. “This is about you hating me and trying to find a more formidable reason to justify it than simple jealousy.”

“You think that I am jealous of you?” She laughed.

“You don’t like me because I’ve had Stiles dick in my mouth and he dropped his crush on you before you ever had the chance.” The laugher died off immediately, only to be replaced with what would be a terrifying glare had he not been on the receiving end of Gemma’s for so long.

“Shots fired.” Malia blurted out, earning a few confused yet amused looks. “Sorry. Kira showed me Tumblr a few days ago. They say that a lot on there. It seemed appropriate.”

“It wasn’t.” The timid smile fell from Malia’s face at Lydia’s words. The redhead then turned her focus back on Juice. “I don’t want Stiles that way.”

“That’s true, but you want the attention he use show you.” He knew that he had hit the nail on the head from the way her hand twitched in her lap, as if she was fighting the urge to pop him. “It hurts. I know. You’re going to college soon, you need to get over the need to be the center of attention. You are not going to be the prettiest or the smartest at university. You need to learn that now before someone teaches you the hard way. Time to grow up, PhD Student Barbie.”

He saw the smack coming and didn’t make a move to stop it. He let her palm sting his cheek. He’d been hit harder, though she put a considerable amount of strength into her hit.

“I wanna ask,” Stiles voice sounded from the doorway, grabbing the attention of the room. “But, I think it would be better if I didn’t.”

“Derek said you weren’t going to be here until morning.” Scott looked at him in confusion.

“Change of plans. I want to talk to Juice. Alone.”

“Okay, look,” Juice held his hands up in defense. “I may have been out of line with Lydia – “

“What do you think I’m going to do? Take you out back and beat your ass?” Stiles looked at him incredulously. “I only came in and saw her bitch slap you. I don’t know what caused it and I don’t care.”

“Oh, okay.” He felt a wave of relief hit him as he stood up. “Is something happening? Is that why you’re here early?”

“Yeah, something is happening. You are going to jail tomorrow and I’m having a lot of feelings about it.” He answered quickly, looking a little annoyed with himself. “Let’s go to the roof and talk about them.”

“Yeah, okay.”

He allowed Stiles to lead him to the roof, somewhere he hadn’t been before. It was nice, had a great view, though Stiles didn’t seem to notice. The younger man had begun pacing back and forth as soon as the door closed behind them.

“Stiles?”

“I was not going to do this.” He chuckled almost manically. “I was going to take you to Charming tomorrow, let you go to prison, maybe get a little teary, but be done with it.”

“Done with it?” That hurt.

“No, not… I wasn’t going to draw this out. We weren’t going to have some epic declaration of love where I beg you to change your mind and then we run away together.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” He honestly hadn’t thought about it. He never thought running with Stiles was an option. If he chose to leave, to give up his club, he always thought he would be alone. “You are not leaving your pack and your father.”

“You’re right. I’m not. Even if we wanted to that ship has sailed.” Now that the police and SAMCRO were involved, yeah, that ship had definitely left port. “We had a family dinner at Gemma’s house and then I may have bonded with Nero. And, I realized that I could not let you go to jail and have it be nothing.”

“I’m not even sure how any of that is connected.” Even he couldn’t follow Stiles train of thought sometimes.

“Don’t worry about it. Stay with me here.” Stiles urged him. “Whenever any of you had gone to jail in the past, I didn’t really have much of a reaction. I was worried, yes, but I always knew you guys would be okay. It’s different now.”

“Because I’ll be by myself.” He couldn’t say that didn’t worry him.

“Yes. Before you had guaranteed protection. Now you don’t. The club is in chaos and Jax is burning bridges left and right.” Jax had gone to war with two of the most dangerous crews in San Joaquin, one of which was currently locked up in Stockton where Juice would be going. “You will be alone and we don’t know how long you will be inside. We don’t know if Jax –“

“We don’t know if Jax will keep his word and let me live.” He had thought about that too.

“We don’t know who Jax and the club are going to piss off next.” More SAMCRO enemies meant more threats for him inside. “There are so many things that can happen, that can go wrong between when you go in and when you get out. What if you don’t get out at all? What if I’m not here when you do?”

“I’m not worried about you not being here.” It was the one thing he wasn’t worried about.

“I don’t mean being in Beacon Hills or Charming. I could be dead.” He tried his hardest to hold back recoil at the very thought of Stiles being dead before he got out of prison. “If the supernatural stuff doesn’t get me killed, it could be the club.”

“Nope.” He shook his head in denial. “You are not going to die. Not any time soon.”

“I could.”

“No. It would devastate your dad and you wouldn’t do that to him.” If there was such a thing as a grim reaper Stiles would probably talk him in circles until it got annoyed and let him live just to get him to shut up.

“The point is that I could die and so could you.” That was true regardless of prison time, the club, or Stiles involvement with werewolves. “And there just hasn’t been enough time. We haven’t had enough time.”

“For what?”

“For us to figure out this thing that we always skirt around.” He gestured between them. “The timing always sucked, you know? I was underage, then I was with Malia, and you had this weird thing with Chibs. And now… now is when we are supposed to have the time, but everything is wrong.”

“We will find the time, Stiles.”

“I don’t want to find the time somewhere down the road, because there is never enough time.” The younger man growled at him. “I have watched both of my brothers and my father run out of time with the women they loved. I learned from watching them grieve. I don’t want to sound anymore like I cliché than I already have, but I don’t want to lose us before we have a chance…”

“I get it.” Juice assured him, stepping closer, running his hand up and down Stiles arms to soothe his tension. “We want this now, for however long we have it.”

“Yes. Yes, exactly.” He seemed to relax knowing that Juice understood.

“You love me. I love you.”

“Yes, I do. You do. We do.” He nodded vigorously.

“What you are saying is,” He couldn’t keep the smirk off his face as he continued. He was a bit of an asshole that way. “You want to be my old lady.”

“What – I – “ His jaw dropped in shock. “We were having a moment here! Why do you gotta ruin it?”

“I’m sorry. You were the one who said we were the comic relief. One of us was going to ruin it.” He smiled at Stiles irritation. “It is basically what you’re saying though, unless I’m misinterpreting.”

“Yes, you are misinterpreting. I am neither old nor a lady. I am all young man.” He grumbled. “But, yeah, the basic principals are the same, I guess.”

“Old man,” Juice suggested. “Even though I’m older than you.”

“You know what?” Stiles walked Juice backward until the back of his legs hit something solid. He was unceremoniously pushed into a sitting position on a large cinderblock, while Stiles straddled his lap. “Let’s just get to the naked portion of the evening, before we both say something really embarrassing.”

“Here on the roof?”

“Yep.”

“While your friends are probably listening in?”

“Let them listen. It’s not like they’re going to grade our performance.”

* * *

 

“That felt shitty.” Liam muttered. “Sitting here and not being able to tell Stiles. It feels wrong.”

“It’s better that he doesn’t know now. He’s got enough going on.” Derek said, knowing Stiles didn’t need any more crap being thrown at him.

“What happens if he finds out before we tell him?” Kira asked.

“We’ll deal with it. It will all work out. It has to.” Scott, ever the optimist, answered as if it would be that easy.

“If it doesn’t you will be the one to pick up the pieces.” Lydia reminded him.

“I know.” The Alpha nodded. “That fight between you and Juice was a good idea. How did you know Stiles was going to be here?”

“He texted Juice earlier to let him know he would be coming. Malia signaled me when he got close to the door so I knew when to slap him.” Lydia smiled deviously. “I was supposed to smack him for the dick sucking comment, but Stiles was taking his time walking up the stairs, so I had to settle for the weird Barbie one.”

“What the hell was with that PhD Student Barbie thing anyway?”

“No idea. We didn't plan the argument that far ahead, he made that up on the spot.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if it was supposed to be a compliment or an insult.”

“Is there a PhD Barbie?” Malia inquired.

“No, I don't think so.” There were plenty of others though. “So, what are they saying up there?”

“He just professed his love.”

“Which one?”

“Does it matter?” The coyote questioned.

“This isn’t weird for you?” Kira’s voice was laced with concern as she faced Malia.

“No.” She furrowed her brows in confusion. “Should it be?”

‘Well, you ex is on the roof confessing his love to someone else.” Lydia told her.

“Yeah.” Malia nodded, waiting for a further explanation that never came. “He’s happy. And sad. He’s happy and sad and he loves someone who loves him back. What’s the problem?”

“It’s not you. He’s not saying that he loves you.” The redhead pointed out. “You have every right to be angry about it. Unless, you never saw yourself having a future with him. I thought I would be with my first love forever. I just assumed you felt the same about Stiles.”

“Oh, I’m gonna have Stiles forever.” She looked at the other woman like she was an idiot. “Not like Juice has him, but that’s okay.”

“Okay, I’ll ask.” Liam volunteered after a few beats of silence. “How will you have him if he’s with Juice?”

“He’s my best friend. He is going to be my best friend forever.” The _duh_ was more or less implied.

“That is a very healthy way of looking at it, Malia.” Kira praised her.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Oh god.” Liam muttered while Derek groaned and Scott’s eyes went wide.

“They’re having sex on the roof, aren’t they?” Braeden smiled at the scandalized look that graced both Liam and Scotts faces.

“Oh yeah.” Malia's smile widened as she licked her lips.

“I’m going to kill them.” Derek grumbled, looking more and more annoyed with every passing second.

“Do we have to listen to this?” Liam sank down in his chair, trying to cover his ears with his hands.

“You didn’t have to listen to any of it.”

“Should we leave and give them some privacy?”

“I’m not leaving my own loft to give them privacy.” Derek proclaimed. “Just tune them out.”

“I don’t know how.” The youngest wolf squeaked.

* * *

 

They stumbled back down the stairs early the next morning. Stiles opted to make use of the lofts shower, while Juice forced himself to decline the offer. A joint shower would only make them late to their meeting with the club.

“There’s coffee.” Derek nodded to the coffee maker as Juice entered the kitchen.

“Thanks.” He made his way to the pot to make himself a cup. “Um… sorry about last night.”

“For screwing Stiles on my roof? No, you’re not.” Juice couldn’t even pretend to look ashamed. “Did you tell him?”

“No.” He leant back against the counter, taking a sip of his drink. “You and Scott told me not to.”

“It’s not a good time for him to know.” There was that word again, time. “You made the right choice.”

“I never make the right choice.” That is exactly why he was in this position. “This one makes me a coward and a liar.”

“Weren’t you that already in the eyes of your club?” That stung.

“Yes.”

“Hey, we gotta get going soon.” Stiles announced as he bustled in, eyes zeroing in on Juice’s mug of caffeine. “Coffee.”

“Take it.” He obediently handed it over though there was still enough in the pot for Stiles to make his own cup. “That was a quick shower.”

“Yeah, I just needed a wash down.” He replied between taking gulps of the scalding liquid, making Juice cringe in sympathy for his throat and tongue.

“I don’t think it’s going to be too hard for your brother to figure out who you’ve been with.” Derek gestured to the hickey poking over the collar of Stiles shirt and then to the one further up his neck. “Isn’t that going to cause some problems?”

“I told Jax that I would be with Juice.” The man in questioned raised his brows in surprise. “I wouldn’t have been able to ditch Gemma if I hadn’t.”

“Why do you have to take Gemma everywhere?”

“Jax is trying to break us.” Both Juice and Derek snorted at the scowl on Stiles face. “He thinks we’ll get mad at each other and reveal the secret we share to him. It's the only way he will call off the buddy system or at least assign us different partners.”

“What’s the secret?”

“That would be you, dear.” Stiles smiled sweetly at him over the rim of his coffee cup. “That is one of them at least.”

“He does realize his plan will more likely end up with you back in the nuthouse,” The younger man began nodding in agreement before he even finished. “Before it got him the truth he wants.”

“I don’t think he’s figured that out yet.” Stiles said thoughtfully. “He has his moments, but he is not the brightest crayon in the box. Thank god he’s pretty.”

“He is pretty.”

“Didn’t you say you were leaving?” Derek asked grumpily.

“Yeah, I’ve got a lot to do today.” Stiles sighed as he rinsed out the coffee mug. “We have to go meet with the club, against my better judgment, and then I have an appointment with the DA.”

“Why are you meeting with the district attorney?”

“My dad wants me to talk to her.”

“You are going to meet a DA looking like that?” The wolf gave him a dubious look. “You expect her to take you seriously when you look like you’ve been mauled?”

“I’ll pick up some concealer before the appointment. I’ll cover them up, no big deal.” He rubbed his hand over the marks.

“You might want one of the girls to show you how to put it on first.”

“I know how to put it on. It’s not like it’s hard. You buy the one that matches your skin tone. You rub it on and make sure it blends in. What? I was a curious child. Don’t judge me.”

“No one is judging you.”

“So, Derek, I see you got stuck with the pack for the night.” Stiles jerked his head toward the living room where they were all sleeping in various positions across the floor and couch. “I didn’t see Braeden though. It’s a little early for her to be running errands or working a job, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” Derek supplied unhelpfully. “She had things to do, so she went to do them. I didn’t ask where she was going or what she was doing.”

“You are lying.” Stiles was quick to accuse. “Something is going on.”

“Nothing is going on.” The wolf denied. “Just because you exist in a constant state of paranoia, does not mean the rest of us are up to something.”

“One, when you refuse to tell me things, it does mean you’re up to something. Two, my paranoia has paid off recently.” It helped save Abel and Thomas. “Now, tell me what is going on.”

“The pack learned you were keeping things from them and not everyone was happy about it.” It was only partially a lie. “We’re doing damage control while you’re gone.”

“Damage control?” Given the amount of anger that overtook Stiles expression, that probably wasn’t the right wording. “What kind of damage could that information have possibly done? We all have secrets, mine have never come back to bite us in the ass, unlike some peoples.”

“We are dealing with it, Stiles.” Derek said confidently, but Stiles didn’t seem to be buying it.

“Whatever. We have to go.” He pushed Juice toward the doorway before he turned a hardened glare toward the wolf. “You tell the pack that if they have a problem with me or my family then they can tell me themselves. No more secret meetings behind my back about shit they know nothing about. You got that?”

“Scott was right.” Was the only response Derek had for him.

“That is an exceedingly rare phenomenon.”

“Stiles, you are being an asshole.” Juice admonished.

“Scott was right about what?” Stiles questioned, ignoring Juice’s comment.

“Spending time in Charming makes you angrier.” Derek explained.

“I always have this anger, Derek. I just do not let it take over my entire life like you did. I don’t grow fangs and claws when it gets to be too much.” He spit back at the other man. “Being in Charming doesn’t make me angrier. It makes me less inclined to put up with everyone’s petty bullshit.”

* * *

 

This was not a place Jax found himself at often. In fact, this entire stretch of road he had deemed off limits to himself. He hated seeing the exact place his father had wrecked, the initials and date written on stone.

“Alright, brother?” Bobby asked as he came to stand beside him.

“I’m good.” He offered a small smile that he knew the older man could see right through. “You think I made the right call with Juice?”

“I wouldn’t have voted for it if I didn’t.” They both knew that wasn’t entirely true. “The kids an idiot, but he loves this club. He’ll do what needs to be done. If he doesn’t do it for us, he will do it to stay with Stiles.”

“That is the part that worries me.”

“You dug your own grave on that one.” Bobby chuckled. “You pushed Juice into Stiles atmosphere when he first showed up at TM.”

“At the time Juice was the only one anywhere near Stiles age bracket.” Anyone under the age of twenty-one was considered near Stiles age back then. Before Juice had patched in, he was sure he had a free babysitter with the prospect. “Stiles had just lost Claudia and Juice was still working through whatever happened to him in Queens. I thought they could help each other.”

“And they did.” Juice had taken it upon himself to teach Stiles how to properly use a computer, while Stiles took Juice on as his partner in a prank war he had going with Tig. They both had healed a bit that first summer in each other’s presence. “It all backfired on you when we were released from Stockton after those fourteen months inside. Stiles had grown up, matured, and set his sights on Juice. He never stood a chance.”

“Yep.” Piney had won the bet on that one. They all knew it was bound to happen eventually when Stiles started making heart-eyes at Juice. “I didn’t care then, I was all for it if they were going to be happy. Now, we’re using their feelings for each other to manipulate them into doing what we want.”

“We do what we have to do.” Bobby replied as they watched the jeep pull off beside their bikes.

“I’ll be sure to tell Stiles that if shit goes south.” More like _when_ it goes south. “I’m sure it will bring him a measure of comfort.”

“Looks like he has all the comfort he needs.” He nodded to where Stiles was hopping out of the vehicle, not missing the sly smile Juice sent him over the hood as he adjusted himself in his pants.

“Jesus.” Debauched was a good word for the way Stiles look. Thoroughly debauched.

“Sorry we’re a little late.” Stiles apologized, not sounding the least bit sorry at all. “We got caught up.”

“I can see that. You think you marked your territory well enough, Juice?” He could count three visible hickeys marking his brother, along with some beard burn and obvious sex hair. “Or do you need to piss on him to be sure?”

“Who says he hasn’t already?” Stiles smirked at his older brother.

“Oh Christ.” Chibs muttered under his breath, while Tig let out a whoop of approval.

“I didn’t!”

“No, but it looks like you got him pretty good with another bodily fluid.” Tig laughed as he pulled at a clump of Stiles hair. “You have some jizz right there.”

“That’s a lie.” Stiles refused to take the bait, smacking the older man’s hands away from his head.

“It’s not.” Juice grimaced at the patch of hair. “I told you we shouldn’t have stopped at that rest area. It made your shower pretty much pointless.”

“You seemed pretty okay with it when- “

“Enough.” Jax barked.

“You started this.” Stiles grumbled.

“And I’m finishing it. Unless you don’t care about Juice earning his way back in.” The smiles on both Stiles and Juice’s faces were wiped away, fear taking its place on Juice’s, while anger settled on Stiles. “You can go now, Stiles. Your part is done.”

“Fine.” Stiles sneered at him before turning to Juice. “Stay safe, yeah?”

“I’ll do my best.” They did not share a goodbye kiss, only a nod, an acknowledgment of where they stood.

Stiles walked away after that, stalking back toward the jeep, irritation in every step. He pinned Jax with a look as he climbed into the cab, and he knew this was not over. Stiles wouldn’t start shit with Jax in front of the club, not now when it was official business, but he sure as fuck would finish it when they were alone. Having a younger brother was a lot like having a wife sometimes.

* * *

 

Stiles was willing to admit he felt a little intimidated as he waited for the DA in her office, he suspected that is what she was going for when she told her assistant it was okay to let him back there while she finished another meeting. He wasn’t worried. His dad said that she was nothing like Jarry, that she was one of the good ones.

“Mr. Stilinski,” The older woman greeted as she entered the room. He stood up respectively, because he was taught manners, as she rounded to her side of the desk. “Sit down, please. Should I call you Stilinski or Teller? I’ve heard you go by both.”

“Stiles is fine, actually.” He answered, trying to calm the butterflies that had taken up residence in his stomach.

“Nathaniel Teller,” She had obviously caught onto his nerves if her tone of voice meant anything. “Interesting choice of aliases.”

“Not really.” Not if you knew the history behind it.

“No?” He shrugged his shoulders in response. “Nathaniel is your maternal grandfather’s first name. Teller is your mother’s first husband’s surname.”

“I use Teller, while in Charming, so people know I’m Jax’s family and that I am connected to the club.” It was either use Teller or Morrow. Morrow would align him with Gemma and Clay, so that was never going to happen. “Nathaniel is my birth name.”

“From my understanding, Gemma and your father do not have the best relationship.” They did not have a relationship at all. “Gemma gave up her custodial rights to you after your birth. Why would your father honor her by giving you her father’s name?”

“It was honoring her brother, Nathaniel. He was my dad’s best friend growing up. He died when they were in high school.” It was the whole reason he and Gemma knew each other to begin with. “It’s also my brother’s middle name, so it was also for him.”

“Why the change to Mieczysław?” Why didn’t she ask his dad this when he was here?

“My mom, Claudia,” He clarified, given the fact that she seemed to be under the assumption that Gemma was his mother. “She wanted to adopt me after she married my dad. Gemma wasn’t going to let that happen. She gave up her custodial rights, but she was not going to give up all of them. Letting my mom give me a new name was my dad’s way of letting her know she was my mother no matter what.”

“That’s very sweet.” She smiled at him.

“I was young enough that the change didn’t matter. Mieczysław became my first name alongside Nathaniel.” Mieczysław Nathaniel Thomas Stilinski was a mouthful. He had resented the length of it in elementary school whenever the teachers asked them to spell out their full name. “Stiles came later. Gemma is the only one who still uses Nathaniel and that is only when she’s feeling particularly annoyed with me.”

“Let’s get down to business, shall we?” She suggested, apparently satisfied with his explanation. “What do you know about the Tara Knowles murder?”

“Nothing.” He lied easily. “I thought this was about Jarry?”

“I have the information your father gave me. Do you have anything new to tell me?” She inquired.

“No.”

“Then let’s talk about Tara Knowles.”

“I don’t know anything about her murder. I wasn’t anywhere near Charming when it happened.” He added that last part in case he needed an alibi for any reason. “I don’t know what you expect me to tell you.”

“Why don't you tell me the exact nature of your relationship with Tara?” She seemed genuinely curious, as if he and Tara had something between them that they needed to hide.

“We were having an illicit affair.” He deadpanned, leaning forward and continuing in a staged whisper. “Jax must never know.”

“Mr. Stilinski,” She lost every ounce of politeness as she spoke. “I don’t have time for games.”

“Then ask me what you want to know. Don’t dance around it and expect me to answer a question that I don’t even know.”

"Why was Tara going to give custody of her children to you if she couldn’t get into Witness Protection?” He expected more questions about Tara’s death, not that one. “She had even started paperwork to prove your brother was an unfit parent and that Gemma was a danger to them. She was planning to give up her rights and make sure the boys went to you. Why is that?”

“She did not want the boys to grow up in the club. If she couldn’t get out then they were going to.” Tara didn’t have family outside of Jax and the kids. There was no distant relative she could ship them off to, there was only him. “She knew if it was me then Jax would be less likely to fight her on it.”

“There wouldn’t be much of a fight if he had his rights revoked.” Court papers wouldn’t matter to Jax or Gemma. The kids belonged to them whether a judge said so or not. “Now Tara is dead and the children are under the care of their grandmother and father. Do you plan to apply for custody?”

“No. Jax is going to hand over custody to me.” If the violence in Charming continued to escalate, it would not be difficult to convince him to sign over his rights. “He’ll do it because that is what Tara wanted.”

“And what about Gemma? Do you think she will just let you take her grandchildren?”

“Gemma won’t be a problem.” Not once the truth came out.

“You signed a statement with Tara’s lawyer in preparation for a custody battle, that listed the reasons why your brother was an unfit parent. The Sons of Anarchy have a history of using intimidation tactics against law enforcement and attorneys.” He wished she would tell him something he wasn’t already aware of, like how she got her hands on his statement to begin with. “What will Jax do if he finds that out?”

“I suppose he will have to take a long hard look in the mirror and examine why I would say those things.” He didn’t even have to lie in his statement. Everything he had said about his brother had been fact. “That is assuming Jax would have a reason to go after Tara’s lawyer, which he doesn’t.”

“Do you think you are bulletproof, Mr. Stilinski? Do you think just because you are Jax Teller’s baby brother and Gemma Teller’s son that you can do whatever you want, and they won’t take revenge on you?”

“No, ma’am.” He answered honestly. “I never had any illusions when it came to Gemma and Jax. I know exactly what the consequences will be when Jax finds out. It doesn’t matter what Jax or Gemma could or would do to me. Making sure that those boys grow up safe and away from all of this is the only thing that I want. I will give anything to make sure that happens, even my life.”

* * *

 

He was sleeping, or had been, quite peacefully in fact. He was dreaming of being far away from here, somewhere nice, where he didn’t have to worry about imminent death. It was somewhat boring actually. Then he was rudely awoken when something smacked against the side of his head.

“Ow!” He rubbed the spot of impact on his skull, before his eyes registered what hit him and who had thrown it at him. “Did you just hit me with a shoe? What the hell?”

“The club has Juice?”

“Yeah.” She woke him up for this? “I dropped him off a few hours ago.”

“Why would you do something that stupid?” She snapped at him. “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“What does it have to do with you?” He sat up in bed, staring her down. “The club made the deal with him. Go yell at them.”

“Juice knows what I – “ She stopped herself, eyes darting toward the closed door, as if someone was going to burst in at any second. “You know what he has on us.”

“Us?” He snorted. “What he has on you. I may have played my own role in Tara’s betrayal, but I was not an accomplice in her murder. That was all you, mommy dearest.”

“You said that you would keep quiet, so long as I kept quiet.”

“Yes, I did. I said _I_ would keep quiet. I never said anything about Juice.” Obviously, she hadn’t thought the deal through. “It’s the problem with loose ends, Gem. There is always a chance someone is going to talk.”

“I tried to tie up that loose end. You wouldn’t let me.”

“I wouldn’t let him kill you.” He argued. “You didn’t kill him because he got the upper hand on you.”

“He would never have pulled the trigger on me.”

“That’s probably true.” He would have left her on the side of the road and stolen her car. “It doesn’t matter anymore, does it? The club has him. He could tell them the truth. They may believe him, they might not.”

“Jax wants me at the cabin, so he must have told them something.” Suddenly, Stiles could see where he got his paranoia.

“There could be plenty of reasons Jax wants you at the cabin.” He said, climbing out of bed. “Even if Juice did say something, there is not much you can do it about it now. You really think Jax will trust the word of a traitor?”

“I can’t take that chance.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“You and I had a deal.” She pointed an accusing finger at him. “Jax wouldn’t find out – “

“Jax was always going to find out, Gemma. It was just a matter of when.” He was confident that Juice hadn’t said a word about Gemma’s involvement in Tara’s death, but she did not need to know that. She deserved to stew in that guilt. “Our deal was only valid between you and I. It did not include Juice.”

“Jax will kill me.”

“You should have thought about that before you killed his wife.” He replied with ice in his tone.

“I didn’t go there intending to kill her.”

“Well you did. Hell, you would have been better off turning yourself into the cops and facing it head-on. Instead, you and Juice came up with this elaborate lie and now we are at war.” It was costing people their lives, albeit not all of them were innocent people per se, but people nonetheless.

“The club,” She corrected him. “The club is at war, sweetheart, not you. You don’t want to be part of that, remember?”

“You are as blind as you are stupid if you think only those wearing a kutte are in this fight.” He was damned if he was going to get into the same argument about joining the club, over a slip of the tongue, at a time like this. “Everyone remotely connected to SAMCRO is a target, and that includes you.”

“I’ve been dealing with this kind of crap since the very beginning. I can handle it.”

“Can you handle the sight of your son looking at you with absolute hatred?”

“I’ve had a lot practice with you.” He reared back like she had slapped him. He had never thought about it from her point of view. He never had any reason to.

What it must have been like to choose between the love of a man and the love of her child. What was it like to look back and realize that the man helped warp you into a monster? Did she still love Clay even though he had dragged her down to the pits of hell with him? Why did she choose the man at all?

If she were anyone else, he might believe she was trying to do the right thing by picking Clay and letting his dad take him. Maybe she had seen the violence, saw what her oldest son was turning into, and decided her youngest would not suffer the same fate. It was possible that she had given him up to save him. He wished he could believe that, but he knew it wasn't true.

To Gemma, family was everything. She kept Jax from leaving the club because it would mean leaving her. She killed Tara to keep her son and grandsons with her. Even through the death and the violence, Gemma wanted Abel and Thomas to carry on the family legacy, because it would keep them with her. It was hard to believe that Gemma would give him, out of everyone, the chance at a safe life, because she loved him.

It probably still hurt, though, to see him with Jax every summer. It must have broken her heart to hear him call someone else mommy. Did it upset her when he would look at her with nothing but scorn in his eyes? Did it make it worse knowing that she was the reason, that it was not a child’s misunderstanding of a situation or teenager's angst, which caused that hate?

The reasons did not matter. Why Gemma did what she did and what caused his hatred had nothing to do with the problem at hand. His dislike for her and Jax’s would not even be on the same level, or in the same spectrum, when the older man found out.

“What I feel for you is nothing compared to what Jax is going to feel when he learns the truth.” It was ridiculous to compare the two.

“I won’t have to live with Jax’s hate like I have spent years doing with yours.”

“You are right about that. Jax will put a gun to your head and let that be the end of it.” There would be a bullet lodged in her brain before Jax even realized his finger was on the trigger.

“You don’t care that your brother is going to kill your mother?”

“You are not my mother.” He snarled at her.

“I carried you. I gave birth to you.” She should respect the fact that he reigned in the exaggerated eye roll he had for waiting for her in response to that over-used speech. “My blood runs through your veins.”

“Like a virus.” A virus that you could not kick no matter how strong the antibiotics happened to be.

“I’m in your veins and I’m in your head.” That was by far the most frightening thing he had ever heard. “You think that because I didn’t raise you that you aren’t mine? That you aren’t just like me?”

“Honestly, I’m thinking about how we got from the club having Juice to you believing I’m like you.” They had veered dangerously off course at some point. “If I got anything from you, besides my hair color, it is the ability to go off on a tangent.”

“Oh, you got more than that, sweetheart.” She drawled. “That killer instinct didn’t come from your daddy. That is all me, babe.”

“I’m sorry, are we supposed to bond over that? Do you want to exchange friendship bracelets, stay up late and trade stories about the people we’ve killed?” Unlike her, he had excuse to fall back on. The nogitsune killed, not him. That’s what his father or Scott would say to absolve his guilt when he would awaken in the middle of the night with a scream. “I may have that instinct, but I don’t let it own me. I am willing to kill to protect my family, my pack, but I will try a thousand different options before I choose murder. I am not you, Gem. I have been what you are and I came through it in the end. We may be alike, but we are not that same.”

Her jaw snapped shut as she narrowed her eyes at him. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head, see her working through what he had said, what he admitted to. He could tell she was about to say something, to open her mouth and argue a point, when the bedroom door swung open before she had the chance.

“We need to get up to the cabin, Gemma.” Happy said gruffly from the doorway, Rat standing directly behind him.

“I haven’t packed my bag yet and I am trying to talk to my son.” She replied irritably.

“Why do you want her at the cabin anyway?” Might as well find out if Juice spilled the beans.

“Family business.” That was incredibly helpful.

“Can you be more specific?”

“No.” Happy was a dick.

“When will she be back?”

“In a couple of days.” That sounded promising. If they were going to kill her, he would have claimed not to know. “Hurry it up, Gemma.”

“Fine.” She waved them away, only turning back to Stiles when the door was firmly closed.

“Well, I don’t think Juice sold you out.”

“That doesn’t mean he won’t.” That is very true. “What is he going to tell them if they decide he does know something?”

“I don’t know.” They did not exactly come up with a concrete plan for how to deal with this. “It looks like you are safe for the time being.”

“You hope.” Not really, no. “You can’t be certain about what he did and did not tell them.”

“That’s true but I am certain that I don’t care anymore. I have absolutely no fucks left to give.” He was past the point of giving a shit. “Maybe Jax should find out before anyone else dies because of your lies.”

“Telling Jax won’t stop any of this.” He had said the same thing to Juice days ago.

“Also true. Knowing the truth could help them end it though. They could start mending fences." Some of those fences had been burnt to a crisp and therefore unrepairable, but others were not. “It’s not like you have much of a choice in how or when he finds out.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You came in here, losing your mind, because you thought Happy was going to take you up to the cabin to kill you. You were going to kill Juice the other day because you thought he would crack, and he might. I could slip up and admit what I know about your lies.” He wouldn’t, but fuck if he did not take a special kind of pleasure in seeing a flash of fear in her eyes. “Too many people know the truth. Walls are closing in, Mama Gemma. It’s almost time for confession. Who is going to be the one to put an end to this lie? Is Juice going to tell to save his own ass? It’s doubtful and the club probably wouldn't believe him anyway. Will it be you? No, not likely. Maybe I will have to be the one to put an end to this game.”

“You tell him my sins and I tell him yours.”

“Maybe I’ll just confess for both of us.” He could go to his brother, to the club, and tell them his own role, the parts that Patterson and Gemma didn’t know. He could take himself down to get justice for Tara. “I might just have to do that, because I am done with this shit. I am done making deals with devils. I am going to tell everyone the truth about what happened. Everyone will know what you did and what I did. And, when I do, I’ll do it my way. I am done playing by Charming’s rules.”

“Don’t start a war with me, baby.”

Because he was an adult he did not stick his tongue out and mock her as she walked out. He did roll his eyes and glare at her retreating form before the door slammed shut. He was an adult not a mature adult.

“The war has only just begun!” He blurted out in a deep voice, dropping to sit back down at the end of the bed. “Did I just quote National Treasure? Was that from one or two? It had the hot FBI agent that looked like Derek’s mom in it, I know that. Shit, she was in both of them. Maybe – “

“Uncle Stiles,” Abel called out to from the door he hadn’t even heard or seen open. “Are you talking to yourself?”

“Usually.” He often talked himself about the most random things when he was lacking sleep. “What’s up, buddy?”

“You haven’t been here.” The boy said pitifully, moving to the bed and wrapping his arms around Stiles neck. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, buddy.” He returned his nephews embrace. “I’m sorry that I’ve been busy and I haven’t been here. I’ll try to be better.”

“Where were you?”

“I went to see my friends and my dad.” He replied as he pulled Abel onto his lap.

“Why can’t they come here?”

“My friends are all packing and spending time with their families before they leave for college.” Or, you know, harboring wanted men for him. “And my dad is working.”

“I like your daddy. He’s nice.” Abel looked up at him with a bright smile.

“My dad is awesome.” Best dad ever.

“Can I go with you the next time you go see him?” He asked earnestly.

“I don’t see why not.” Of course, it wasn’t his decision to make. “We’ll have to ask your dad first.”

“Just ask grandma. She tells daddy what to do anyway.” It was good he figured that out so early in life. “How come she doesn’t tell you what to do?”

“She has tried but it never really worked out in her favor.” She usually ended up bargaining with him, but that didn’t always work out either. “Speaking of grandma, she has to go help your dad with some stuff, and she might be gone for a few days.”

“When is she coming back?”

“I don’t know, buddy.” He didn’t even know why the club wanted her up there in the first place. “You should go say goodbye to her though.”

“Okay.” He hopped off Stiles lap. “Will you take a nap with me after I say bye?”

“Yeah, just come back in when you’re done.”

* * *

 

“Stiles, wake up.”

“Tired.” He mumbled. “Go away.”

“Stiles,” Someone, a girl from the sounds of it, patted his arm. "Get up."

“Don’t hit me.” He pulled away from his attacker. “No throwing things either.”

“I wasn’t going to throw anything and I didn’t hit you, I barely tapped you. I do need you to get up though.”

“Why? What possible reason could there be for waking me up yet again?” He forced his eyes open to stare daggers at the person who dared to wake him.

“I didn’t wake you up the first time.” Wendy said as she yanked the blanket off him. “Bobby is outside.”

“Why do I care?” He pouted, curling around his nephew for warmth.

“He wants to talk to you.”

“What the fuck for?”

He was already disentangling himself from Abel and climbing out of bed before she could answer. He didn’t bother trying to find his shoes, choosing to stomp down the hall and out the door barefoot to greet Bobby in the driveway.

“What do you want?”

“Good evening to you too, sunshine.” The bastard laughed at him.

“Sorry. I’m still waking up.” He rubbed his sleep-crusted eyes, proving his point. “What’s going on?”

“Gem is freaking out about being up at the cabin.” Instead of playing it cool, acting normal, she was acting suspicious. That was great. “I’m going up there to check on her. You wanna come with me?”

“No.”

“Jax told me to bring you along.” Jax was a douchebag.

“I would rather be run over by my own jeep, repeatedly, then spend another minute with Gemma today.” There was no way in hell he would seclude himself in a cabin with her for god knows how long.

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse.”

“Tiggy owes me a hundred bucks.” Bobby smiled in delight. “He thought the ceasefire would last at least another day.”

“Yeah, well, today hasn’t been the greatest day. I mean, I did help cart Juice off to jail and all.” He had to keep his mind from retreating to the dark place that made him wonder what Juice was going through being locked up. “I’m not really in the right headspace to deal with Gemma’s theatrics.”

“How you doing with that anyway, Juice going away?” Stiles shrugged, not really wanted to answer that question. “At least you had a night with him before he went in, and from the looks of you it was a good one.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure we got biker married last night.” He wasn’t really sure of the semantics.

“Mazel tov.”

“Thanks.”

“You doing alright with everything else?” He repeated the shrug. _Everything_ cast a wide net. “You seem different, son.”

“Different?”

“Tired.”

“You woke me up.” He would love to be able to get a good night’s sleep or a nap that lasted longer than two hours. “I haven’t exactly been getting my eight hours.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

“You're Jax’s kind of tired.” Stiles scrunched up his face in confusion. “Like you got all this crap bearing down on your shoulders and you can’t get out from under it all.”

“Family curse.” He sighed, sitting down on the porch steps.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the heart condition and it passed you by.” He did get lucky in that respect.

“Heart condition is the family flaw.” He corrected. “Being neck deep in shit we can’t get out of is the family curse.”

“Suppose your right.”

“This is why you wanted me to come up to the cabin? You wanted to talk to me?” He had no doubt it was Jax that put him up to it, but Bobby probably had his own reasons as well.

“I’m worried about you.” The older man admitted. “I can see you’ve been through something. I’m just not sure what it is.”

“We’ve all walked through our own personal hells in the last few years, Bobby.”

“You still walking yours?”

“Maybe.” He replied after a moment of thought.

“You’ll come through it.” Bobby said confidently. “You and Jax always do in the end.”

“Jax isn’t going to come through this one, Bobby, not the way you want him to.” Jax would never be who he was.

“Yeah, I know.” Bobby nodded. “I’m gonna head out, kid. You sure you don’t want to come?”

“I’m sure. Have fun.”

“Oh yeah, dealing with Gemma when she’s out of her mind it a load of fun.”

He stayed on the porch long after Bobby’s car had pulled out of the driveway and disappeared down the street. He stood up to go back inside when the sun began to set, only to freeze at the sight of a police cruiser parking on the curb.

“Awesome.” He muttered as the Sheriff exited the car. “Just what I need to finish off my day.”

“Nathaniel Teller.” She must really like him if the disgust in her tone meant anything.

“Lt. Jarry.” He could be polite and respectful, even if she couldn’t. “What can I do for you?”

“I guess I should call you Mieczysław Stilinski.” She declared as she stood as close to him as she could without actually touching. Personal space issues, jeez. “That is your real name.”

“Aw crap.” The jig was up. He could not keep one secret in this damn town.

“I’m going to need you to turn around and put your hands behind your back.” She ordered, removing the handcuffs from her belt. “You are under arrest.”

“For what? Giving a fake name to a dirty cop?” He complied anyway, because he was lot of things but an idiot was not one of them.

“Possession of illegal narcotics.” She ignored his baffled expression as she tightened the cuffs around his wrists.

“Excuse me? What narcotics do I supposedly have on me?” She shoved a small bag of white powder under his nose, before dropping it in his shirt pocket. “Shit. If you know who I am then you know my dad is a sheriff. You are planting drugs on another sheriff’s son.”

“Think of how disappointed he’s going to be with you.”

“These bogus charges are never going to stick.” She had to know that.

“I don’t need them to stick.” That did not sound ominous at all.

"I need a new life." He concluded as she carted him off toward the cruiser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [TUMBLR](http://www.stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/)  
> [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/user/SandM1827/)  
>  Thank you for all the comments and kudos, they are greatly appreciated.
> 
> **Lydia brought up the possibility of the Sons of Anarchy's enemies attacking Beacon Hills because of Stiles connection to them. My question for you is this: How would you like to see retaliation for something the pack has done hit SAMCRO for the same reason. It's something I've thought about, but I'm not sure. Yes/No?


	8. Lining Up For The Execution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd.  
> Warning: There is some non-consensual touching that happens early on in this chapter.  
> Some new tags have been added as well and will continue to be added as the story progresses.  
> Chapter title comes from We Are by Ana Johnsson.  
> Gif set that goes with this chapter: [As far as it takes.](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/106961125179/mama-gemma-au-as-far-as-it-takes-18-chapter-8)  
> Timeline: So, my timeline is not as bad as Jeff Davis or Kurt Sutters, but it is a little warped. I said before that in this fic, unlike in canon, the pack were seniors during season 3B & 4, so Stiles is freshly graduated from high school but still dealing with the fall out of all that. 6x01 of Sons of Anarchy would be set about the same time as 3x19 of Teen Wolf. The second half of 3b and all of season 4 would happen during season 6 of Sons of Anarchy, which is a huge stretch I know but whatever.

On the bright side, he had finally gotten some sleep, granted it was in a holding cell with his hands cuffed behind his back. Whatever. Sleep was sleep. He would take it where he could get it. He felt surprisingly well rested for spending the night in jail.

He was not officially under arrest. He wasn’t read his rights, allowed a phone call, or processed. Jarry had brought him in, shoved him in a cell, and left without another word. No one else had been in or out, though a few deputies had looked in on him with mild curiosity, but otherwise left him alone.

It was an intimidation technique. He wasn’t sure if it was him she was trying to intimidate, or the club. Aside from their brief meeting at Scoops, they had not interacted at all, so he did not see why he would be her intended target.

“If you don’t let me out of here soon I’m going to start singing show tunes!” He yelled out toward the bullpen. “It will be really loud and incredibly obnoxious!”

Honestly, show tunes were the least of their worries. Someone was going to have some urine to clean up soon if they didn’t un-cuff him. He could, theoretically, get his jeans down if he wasn’t wearing a belt, but he would have no ability to pull them back up when he was done and he really did not want to be left sitting in a cold cell with his dick hanging out.

“If I was a lesser person I would sue the hell out of this department.” His dad just might once he got wind of this.

Other than the farfetched idea that he would feel threatened by this and the idea of a lawsuit, he did not see what the Sheriff had to gain from pinning him with a trumped up drug charge. Perhaps she thought locking him in a cell, alone, for an undetermined amount of time, would make him snap. She would probably have him moved to interrogation when it looked like he was ready to talk, confess whatever she thought he needed to confess.

It could be considered good or bad that the time alone had left him time to think. It caused his mind to wander. His train of thought kept going in the same direction as everyone else’s lately, straight to Tara and his involvement in what happened to her.

* * *

 

_“I’m diggin’ the hair, sis.” He joked at her newly cropped hairdo as the guards led her in. “Very prison chic.”_

_“I’m not really sure what to think of the gel and grease combo you have going.” She nodded to his own unruly hair before a look of concern graced her features. “You look like crap.”_

_“You say such sweet things to me.” He quirked a smile at her. “Are you okay? Are they treating you alright?”_

_“I’m fine. I can handle it.” He might have believed that statement had tears not been welling up in her eyes as she said it. “I just want to get home to my boys.”_

_“They will let you go soon, I’m sure.” Her lawyer had told him they were working on a bail hearing. “What are your plans for when you get out of here?”_

_“For the boys?”_

_“Yes. You are in the middle of a court case now. You can’t just pack up and take the boys up to Oregon.” It had been the original plan before her arrest. “What happens to them if…”_

_“If I am found guilty and sentenced to a long-term prison stay? I don’t know.” The tears began to paint her cheeks. “I know I want them out of Charming, whether I am with them or not. Jax and Gemma will never let that happen. If something happens to me, the kids have Jax. If something happens to both of us, they go to Gemma.”_

_“If Gemma happened to kick the bucket, they go to me.” Technically, if he was under eighteen at the time, the boys would be in his father’s custody until he came of age._

_After Thomas was born, they had multiple contingencies plans written up and placed into both Jax and Tara’s wills, doing whatever they could to ensure the boys did not end up with social services. That was before Gemma began her downward spiral and Jax took his spot at the head of the table._

_“So, we just have to cut out the middlemen, in case things go south.”_

_“The middlemen are Jax and Gemma. Ignoring the fact that, short of murdering them,” Stiles sent her a scathing look acknowledging the camera’s in the room. “We have no way of cutting them out. We also have to think about the fact that you are only seventeen.”_

_“I’ll be eighteen in a few months.” Court cases and paper work would take time. He would be well over eighteen before anything was settled. “The matriarch and the king meeting Mr. Mayhem is not really a viable option for us. So, aside from that, how far are you willing to go to make sure your children are safe?”_

_“As far as it takes.” Even through the tears, there was conviction in her voice. “I’m assuming you have a plan?”_

_“It will turn our lives into a bad daytime television drama.” A trashy soap opera is what it would be. “You are not going to like it.”_

_“I don’t like jail.” She huffed. “I don’t like the idea of my children growing up in Charming, with or without me. Tell me what the plan is.”_

_“When is the last time you and Jax were intimate?” She reeled back in her chair at the question. “I told you that you weren’t going to like it.”_

_“That is none of your business.” He was pretty sure their faces were identical shades of red at this point. “Why does it matter?”_

_“We need Gemma out of the way.”_

_“What does my sex life with your brother have to do with Gemma?”_

_“Wendy nearly killed Abel before he was even born and was promptly pushed out of his life because of it.” She was gone for a good while at least, only recently returning. “Gemma has already put the boys in danger once with that car accident. Imagine how far out of their lives she would be if she did something even worse.”_

_“What the hell are you talking about?”_

_“Do you think you could be pregnant from your last sexual encounter with Jax?” He really hoped the answer was no, this plan would not work if she was actually pregnant._

_“No.”_

_“Maybe you should think about it.”_

_“Think about getting pregnant for the sole purpose of having Gemma kill the baby?” She gave him a look that clearly meant she thought he was nuts._

_“No! Jesus Christ, do you think I’m a monster?” He asked incredulously. “You don’t have to be pregnant. Everyone just needs to think that you are.”_

_“I tell them that I’m pregnant and then get into a fight with Gemma that somehow results in a miscarriage.” She concluded. “That is your bright idea?”_

_“Do you have a better one?” He was all ears._

_“No, but I would really like one that doesn’t involve… that.” So did he but in this situation they had to go to extremes. “I don’t want to break Jax in the process of trying to give my children a normal life.”_

_“This can’t be about Jax. No matter how much you love him. This has to be about the boys or I can’t help you.” He would not destroy his brother without a damn good reason and the only reason that was good enough was those kids. “You could have taken the boys and left after he became President. He told you then that you could go. You chose to stay. Are you going to do that again because you’re afraid to hurt him?”_

_“I won’t do that again. I have to get my boys out of this toxic life. I don’t care what it takes.”_

_“This is how we do that.”_

* * *

 

He wished that he could blame it on the nogitsune. It had happened while he was possessed, but during one of the rare moments when he was riding shot gun in his own body. He remembers hearing it though, hearing it praise him for his ruthlessness, his willingness to take down his brother, the only family he had outside of his father. The thing was proud of him. It made him sick to his stomach and had him throwing up into a trashcan outside the jail.

He did not regret the choice itself, only the outcome. The children needed to be safe, to be protected at all costs. He knew that. Tara knew that. Jax and Gemma? Not so much. It was always a damned if you do damned if you don’t situation. If he and Tara had succeeded in getting the kids out of Charming, they would have been considered traitors to their family. If they turned in the club to do that, they would have been traitors to their family and the Sons of Anarchy. Someone always lost, but in the end, the kids would have been safe. They would have had a chance at a normal life. They would have had a choice in joining the club or not, rather than having it shoved in their faces every day of their lives.

“Stiles?” The familiar voice pulled him from his musings. He had been so lost in the past that he hadn’t even heard the door open.

“Wayne.” He nodded in greeting to the older man. “You don’t seem shocked to see me here.”

“I, uh, meant to warn you.” Well, if he did not have Stiles attention before he sure did now. “I didn’t get a chance to.”

“I have a phone. A quick text saying ‘ _hey Jarry knows your real name and is planning to pick you up’_ would have been helpful.” There was no excuse for not telling him.

“You didn’t have to give her a fake name to begin with. If you had been honest you wouldn’t be in the position you are in right now.” Unser argued defensively and had Stiles on his feet and in his face quicker than he thought possible.

“You have a lot of nerve talking about honesty to me.” He spit at him, knowing how many lies the older man had told for the club. “It would probably be best if you left my confinement area before I give them something to arrest me for. Generally, I’m against violence toward the elderly and mentally incompetent, but I am willing to make an exception for you.”

“No offense, son,” Wayne chuckled condescendingly. “What damage do you think you could do with your hands cuffed behind you?”

“We won’t be finding out.” The Sheriff appeared beside the former Chief.

“Oh, look, it’s the bitch with a badge.” His father would have smacked him upside the head for speaking to a woman, even one as vile as this one, with that kind of language. “What can I do for you? Actually, scratch that. I don’t care what you want. What I want is for you to un-cuff me so I can take a piss. I’ve had to go for hours now and I’m not going to be able to hold it much longer.”

“Those handcuffs aren’t going anywhere.” She said plainly.

“What do you think I am going to do? Head butt you and Unser before making a run for it in a building full of armed deputies?” Did she think he was an idiot? “I have to pee. Un-cuff me or I piss my pants and on your floor.”

“Compromise.” That did not sound good.

Turns out, it did not feel good either. He futilely tried to step back when she reached for his belt buckle. He tried to get away from her prying hands, but she had one firmly gripped around the material as she began to unbutton his jeans. He would rather piss himself than have her touch him.

“Please, stop.” He cringed as she lowered the zipper. “If this is your way of freaking me out– “

“You need to urinate.” She said it so stoically, but he could see the smirk in her eyes as she reached into his boxers to pull out his soft dick. “I’m sure you can walk over to the toilet and aim all on your own.”

“I could, but why bother?” You did not challenge Stiles Stilinski. He hoped she learned that as the stream of hot piss hit her uniform and caused him to groan loudly in relief. Tig would be so proud of him for this.

If looks could kill, he would be dead and buried right now. She was furious. Too angry to do anything more than glare and breathe heavily. If Wayne had not pushed himself between them, she probably would have decked him or pulled out her service weapon.

“Alright, let’s just calm down." The old man brought up his hands in a placating gesture. “This isn’t going to end well if we are at each other’s throats. Sheriff, why don’t you go get cleaned up. I’ll, uh…tuck Stiles in.”

“Oh, that’s great.” Could he opt for being put out of his misery instead?

“Fine.” Jarry shot one more glare at him before walking out of the room.

“Do not touch my dick, Wayne.” He growled at the older man. “Just un-cuff me and I’ll do it myself. You can put the cuffs back on when I’m done.”

“I don’t have the keys. Sorry.”

“Just hurry up then.” He raised his head upward and shut his eyes. A disgusted shiver ran through his body as Unser tucked his penis back into his boxers, zipped, and buttoned his pants.

“Sorry.” The older man apologized again.

“We now have a reason for Tig to call you uncle Touchy.” The joke fell flat even to his own ears. “I need a new life.”

“Don’t we all.”

* * *

 

“No, Jax,” Wendy spoke into the phone. “For the umpteenth time, Stiles is not here. He left with Bobby last night like you wanted him to. Now will you tell me what the hell is going on?”

_“Are you sure he went with Bobby? This is important Wendy.”_

“I think so. He never came back into the house.” Where else would he have gone? “What is going on, Jax?”

 _“Call me if you hear from him or if he comes back.”_ She heard a dial tone before she had a chance to respond or find out why it was so adamant that Stiles be located.

“Wendy?”

“Yeah, Brooke?”

“Quinn and I are going to the store. Do you want us to take Thomas?”

“That would be great.” She could get in a shower while they were gone.

“Okay. Oh, and there’s a woman at the door for Stiles. I told her he wasn’t here but she’s not leaving.” The younger said while taking Thomas into her arms.

“I’ll take care of it.”

She left Brooke to get Thomas ready to go while she headed to the front door. Stiles has had company since returning to Charming, but he was usually let them know if he was expecting anybody and he hadn’t this time.

“Can I help you?” She asked the blonde haired woman that was standing on the steps.

“I’m looking for Stiles.” The grin she gave was more predatory than polite, putting Wendy on edge.

“Is he expecting you?”

“No.” She shrugged but offered no further explanation.

“He’s not here. I don’t know when he will be back.” She took a step behind the door, prepared to close it. “If you tell me your name I’ll be sure to let him know you stopped by.”

“Just give him this.” She handed over a vial of clear liquid. “It’s to help him sleep. Tell him to take it before bed. It will take care of his nightmares.”

“Who do I tell him it’s from?”

“Deaton.”

* * *

She handcuffed him to the table. He wasn’t sure why she felt so threatened by him of all people or what she thought he would do if he had his hands free. His wrists were starting to chaff and bleed from the constant rub of the metal on his skin. It was incredibly irritating.

“You can start talking anytime, Stilinski.” Sheriff Jarry broke the silence they had been sitting in for twenty minutes. “From what I understand, you are usually quite the chatterbox.”

“I wonder who you could have heard that from.” He locked eyes with Wayne who dropped his gaze quickly. “I only talk when I have someone worthwhile to talk to or something to talk about. Tell me what you want to know and we will see how chatty I am.”

“Who killed Tara Knowles?”

“I have no idea.” Why did everyone think he knew the answer to that? He did know, but they shouldn’t just assume that he did. “I was in Mexico when it happened.”

“Camera’s at the border don’t have you crossing into Mexico until the day after.” She had gone as far as to check cameras at the border to substantiate his alibi? Jesus. “Care to change your story?”

“I did not hear about Tara’s death until I was on my way to Mexico.” He, Liam, and Malia had been meeting up with Derek, Peter, and Braeden before leaving to Mexico, when he had gotten the call from Bobby. “The night of her death I was playing in a lacrosse game. My dad was there cheering me on. Would you like my coach’s phone number? I’m sure you already have my dad’s.”

“Just because your new alibi may check out,” So she had already made those calls and neglected to tell his dad that he was in her custody. “Does not mean you don’t know who killed her.”

“That is true.” He could play along, or string her along. “I, unlike the two of you, have more than half a brain. I can easily deduce the most likely suspect.”

“Give me a name.”

“Not with him here.” He dipped his head toward Unser. “He was a half-ass cop when he was Chief, and there is no point in him putting his nose in this business in an official capacity. Not when he is still riding the line between cop and outlaw.”

“What are you –“ The older man’s outrage was cut off by a flick of the Sheriff’s wrist.

“Wait outside, Wayne.” Stiles made sure to give Unser a jaunty wave as the door smacked close behind him. “You want to tell me what that was about?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

It was the same stunt he had pulled with Chris Argent during the meeting with the Calaveras. It was making someone they thought of as an ally seem untrustworthy. It made them think he trusted them enough to tell them something, but only them.

“You want to know who killed Tara and so do I.” He couldn’t tell her the truth. Well, he could, but he wouldn’t. “I have my own theories and the club has there’s. I don’t know what really happened that night but I would like to find out.”

“If you really don’t know,” She obviously didn’t buy that. “Then give me your best theory.”

“Outside of club retaliation there are few people who would hurt Tara. It is really a matter of who had the most motive. She was turning on the club, taking the boys and running.” That was before Jax made a deal of his own.

“You think it was an inside job?”

“I think it’s plausible.” He was in a delicate position here. It was a tightrope walk. He had to turn suspicion on someone in their circle, to make her believe he was telling the truth, without shining a brighter light on SAMCRO. “The club would never have done something like that to her. They know how much she meant to Jax.”

“That leaves family.”

“And friends.” He let his eyes wanted to the door Unser had walked out of. “Wayne has been in love with Gemma for a long time. It is the only reason he was involved in club business to begin with. It was all because she asked him to. Since before the First Nine sewed their patches to their leather he has been doing her bidding. He’s her whipping boy.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“If Gemma’s grandchildren were taken from her, and her son went to prison, it would kill her.” It would break her in a way nothing else could. “If the person causing it all was to die, then that problem was solved. However, Gemma could not hurt Tara, because then she could lose Jax. If someone else were to kill her…”

“You think Wayne killed Tara because Gemma asked him to?”

“No. I think Wayne would do anything to keep Gemma alive, regardless of whether she asked him to or not.” If he didn’t know Unser or know the truth, he might actually believe that bullshit theory.

“You realize how insane that sounds, right?” She trusted Wayne. She did not want to believe he was a bad guy. Stiles saw it though, the doubt. That is exactly what he wanted her to feel.

“It’s only a theory. Believe me or not. I don’t care. I gave you the answers I had. Now let me go.” He pulled at the cuffs. “If you wanted to talk to me about Tara you should have just asked me to come in. There was no need for posturing.”

“I did this because you and your club don’t know your place.” She replied, reaching over to unlock the cuffs. “I think you understand now, don’t you?”

“One, it is not my club. Two, I understand that you are not going to have that badge much longer if you can’t even pretend that you are an upstanding member of law enforcement.” He was going to make damn sure she lost that badge by the time he was done in Charming. He was going to ruin her, if not because she was trying to use him as an example, then for the good of the town.

He didn’t give her a chance to spew anymore filth his way. He was out the door before she was even out of her seat. It wasn’t an official interrogation, so there was no deputy posted at the unlocked door. There was, however, Wayne waiting vigilantly in the hall.

“She’s going to want to talk to you about your _relationship_ with Gemma.” Stiles informed him with an ugly smirk playing on his lips. He leaned in closer to whisper, so only the two of them could hear. “You should remember just how much I know, the next time you forget to give me the heads up about a dirty cop.”

“Mr. Stilinski,” He moved quickly out of Unser’s space as Jarry joined them. “One of my deputies will give you a ride back your mother’s house.”

“I’ll walk.” He had no idea how much of the department was crooked. He was not about to get into a vehicle with one of them.

“You don’t have any shoes.”

“I’ll walk.”

* * *

 

_NO SON IS SAFE_

It was written in a childish scrawl in his son’s bedroom. The double meaning was not lost on Jax. It meant his brothers and his boys were targets. They were all in danger because Lin needed to pay for what he had done to Tara, and Marks didn’t agree with his timing. He already had Bobby, possibly Stiles, and now he was telling Jax that he could take the rest of his family if he chose to.

One wrong move and he could lose everything he had left. It was not something new he was learning. His life had always come with that risk. He always seemed to make the wrong move. He kept losing the people he loved and he just wanted it to stop. He wanted Tara and Ope. He wanted Bobby back, missing an eye or not. He just wanted his family to be whole again.

“Jackie,” He looked up from his spot on Abel’s bed to see Chibs in the doorway. “John called back. He said he talked to all of Stiles friends, he isn’t with any of them.”

“He’s either MIA or Marks has him.”

It wouldn’t be all that surprising if Stiles went off the grid to get his head straight. He hid it well but Jax knew things in Charming were hitting his brother deeper than he would admit. Stiles had a tendency to disappear when he needed to get a hold of himself, though he usually came back before anyone noticed he was even gone. Usually, being the keyword.

The first time Stiles had come to Charming after Claudia’s death, Jax had woken up to an empty house and an open front door. Every club member, old lady, and croweater had been sent out to find him. Donna had been the one to track him down at a park a few blocks away from where she and Opie were living at the time. He had been swinging on the swing set, lost in his head, he didn't even react when Donna had joined him on the swings while they waited for Jax to pick him up.

“What do you want us to do?” Chibs asked, eyeing the new wall art.

“We focus on Bobby.” Bobby was injured and the one they knew was in immediate danger. “If Stiles is with him then Marks will let us know sooner or later. If he took off then he took off. He will turn up eventually. He can take care of himself.”

“Aye.” The Scot agreed. “We get Bobby back, then we make sure Lin and Marks never come near your family again.”

“Yeah.” It would not be that easy and they both knew it. It was a nice thought though.

“Hey,” Tig rapped on the door to get their attention. “Baby bro’s back.”

“One problem solved.” He muttered as he stood up. “What’s his mood like?”

“Diabolical.”

“Shit.” He let Tigs laughter follow them out of the room.

Stiles was pacing the length of the dining room table, an almost manic expression on his face. The members of the club looked like they were waiting for him to let loose the rant he had on the tip of his tongue. Nero’s brows were furrowed in worry and confusion. Gemma and Abel could not look any more bored with the proceedings if they tried. And Wendy was far too amused, which did not bode well for anyone.

“Where the hell have you been?” Using such a harsh tone was his first mistake, which he regretted instantly when his brother ceased his movements and sent him a withering glare.

“I just spent a lovely night in a jail cell, courtesy of your friend Lt. Althea Jarry and a bullshit drug charge.” Jax might have been a bit frightened to see Stiles stalking toward him if he didn’t know him. “I slept with my hands cuffed behind my back. I was bad touched by Jarry and Unser.”

“What?” Multiple voices spouted at once.

“Then, I was told it was all so your club would learn its place.” The younger man ignored the worried chorus of voices. “I walked from the Sheriff’s station to TM, without any shoes. I had to ride bitch on Chucky’s moped just to get here. So, do us both a favor, and shove your alpha-male superiority crap up your bony ass. I am not in the mood to deal with it.”

“Uncle Touchy touched you?” Tig glanced at Stiles suspiciously. “You should shower.”

“I should. I am. I will.” Stiles affirmed. “Oh, heads up, I told Jarry that I had a theory of Wayne being the one to kill Tara. It will keep her busy for about half a day.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jax wanted to rip his hair out at the turn of events. This shit was just too much sometimes. “We thought you had been kidnapped, Stiles!”

“I was! By the sheriff!” He stomped his foot down like a two-year old during a tantrum.

“By August Marks.” He corrected. “Wendy thought you had left with Bobby last night. We thought Marks had you like he has Bobby.”

“Someone has Bobby?” Just like that, the teenager was gone, replaced by the take charge adult that Jax had grown use to during his time here. “What are you doing to get him back?”

“Everything we can.” He would not tell Stiles about the video or the brutality that had befallen Bobby during his captivity. There were some things his brother did not need to know. “We will get him back.”

“Yes, you will.” It was as much an order as it was an agreement.

“Until we do,” He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the argument that was sure to come. “Everyone is going up to the cabin.”

“Okay.” Jax narrowed his eyes, knowing his brother would not go along with anything that easily. “I’ll go up in the morning.”

“You will go up tonight.” He said firmly.

“I will go up in the morning. You are lucky that I am willing to go up at all. There is no point in debating it. We both know I am going to do what I want anyway.” That, well fuck, that was about a hundred and twenty percent true. “I am going to stay at Chibs’ place tonight.”

“You are?” The Scot raised his brows in surprise.

“Uh huh.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Stiles moved to Abel, covering the boy’s ears with his hands. “If your girlfriend shows up I’m going to shoot her in the throat.”

“You really are Gemma’s kid.” Nero observed after a beat of silence.

“I was just starting to like you.” Stiles shook his head in disappointment at the older man.

“Make sure it’s self defense, Stiles. You don’t need a murder charge.” Wendy piped up, earning a thumbs up in confirmation.

“Should you be encouraging this?” Nero looked at her with barely concealed shock. It was blatantly clear how little he understood Stiles.

“Eh.” The blonde shrugged in response. “Oh, Stiles, someone named Deaton left that for you earlier.”

“This?” He picked up a vial from the counter. “Deaton came here and left this? What is it for?”

“It’s to help you sleep. Help with your nightmares.” Stiles looked at the bottle curiously, as she spoke. “You’re having nightmares?”

“I’m starting to think my entire life is a nightmare.” He grumbled, stuffing the vial in his pocket and looking up at the group. “Full house.”

“We have a lot going on. Problems arising a little too close for comfort.” Jax nodded toward his son, a silent gesture to alert his brother that he did not want to get into it with the boy here. “Abel got sent home early from school today.”

“Why?” Stiles hand found a place on Abel’s forehead, checking a fever. “You sick, buddy? You don’t feel warm.”

“It was an accident.” Abel pulled away from his uncle’s touch.

“He hit another kid with his lunch box.” Gemma clarified, causing Stiles to turn his wide eyes on his nephew.

“Why would you do that?”

“It was an accident.” The boy repeated.

“Do you understand what an accident is?” Gemma asked with concern.

“Do you?” The venom in Abel’s voice should have worried him. It should have. Unfortunately, the undignified snort leaving his younger brother’s mouth had him chuckling despite himself.

“Stiles,” He called to his brother who was busy attempting to muffle his laughter. “Go help Abel get some stuff together for the cabin, please.”

“Yeah, okay.” Stiles helped Abel out of the chair.

“See if he will tell you what happened today.” He whispered as they passed him toward the hallway.

“Alright.”

* * *

 

He could not be mad at Jax for sending him to suss out what was going on with Abel today. Bobby was missing and that had to take priority over a child’s behavioral issues. At this point, Abel might be more willing to open up to him than his father anyway.

“Okay bud,” Stiles sat himself down on the bed, trying to act as normal as possible so the boy didn’t think he was in trouble. “Why did you hit another kid with your lunch box?”

“He was being mean.” Abel said as he stood in front of his uncle, fingers playing with a loose thread on the knee of Stiles pants.

“To you?”

“To everyone.”

“That does not make it okay for you to hit him, buddy.” He would have thought there was at least one adult in the boy’s life that would have explained to him that violence was not the answer. It was a laughable idea given what the boy saw in his father’s life every day. “Hurting others is not okay.”

“It was an accident.” Abel repeated his earlier sentiment.

“You just told me you did it because the other boy was being mean.” He wanted to hurt the other kid. “You didn’t like what he was doing so you hurt him. That means it was not an accident.”

“Grandma said it was.” His nephews face was blotched with red, anger showing at Stiles apparent lack of understanding what he was trying to say.

“She said what?”

“Grandma said hurting people was an accident.”

“Grandma is not someone you should be looking to when determining right from wrong.” Gemma was one of the last people you would look to for moral guidance. “Sometimes you don’t mean to hurt someone but you do, and that is an accident. If you see someone and decide to hurt them, then it was not an accident. Sometimes people hurt other people because they can and that is not okay.”

“It was an accident!” Abel yelled in his face and Stiles had to latch on to his arm to keep him from pulling away.

“Abel – “ He hoped to placate the boy, to keep his voice down so no one would come rushing into the room to interrupt their discussion when he was finally getting to the bottom of things.

“Grandma said it was an accident!”

“Grandma lies.” He definitely should not have said that out loud, he would be paying for it later if anyone else found out.

“Grandma said it was an accident!” Abel stomped his foot, tears shining in his eyes. “Grandma said hurting mommy was an accident!”

Suddenly, it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Stiles couldn’t breathe. Abel knew and he was not supposed to know. His nephew was not supposed to carry that weight. He was too young for secret that dark.

“I need you to tell me how you know that, Abel.” He had to know if someone told him, if someone else knew.

“I heard her tell Tommy yesterday.” Abel answered, eyes looking at him with a million questions in them. “She said it was an accident.”

“Abel, what I’m going to ask you to do is really hard, okay?” He waited for his nephew to nod before continuing. “You cannot tell anyone what you just told me. Not Wendy, Nero, your dad, or grandma. You can’t say anything until I tell you that it is okay. Do you understand? Do you think you can do that?”

“I’ll try.” What more could he ask from a five year old?

“Okay. I will tell your dad, so you don’t have to. I’ll try to tell him today.” He could not make Abel keep that secret any longer than he had to. “I will tell him and then you won’t have to worry about it anymore, okay?”

“Okay.” He pulled the boy into a tight embrace. He did it to soothe the tension, the fear, in the child’s shoulders. He released him when he realized that neither of them was gaining any sort of comfort from it.

He got up from the bed with the knowledge that this had to end today, for Abel’s sake. Keeping a secret that huge, even for a little while, would eat away at him. Stiles and Tara had worked so hard to get the boys out of this life, to preserve the innocence they had. He was not going to let a secret damage what they had tried so hard to protect.

“Uncle Stiles?” Stiles looked down to face his nephew. “Hurting mommy wasn’t an accident, was it?”

“No, baby, it wasn’t an accident.”

When he walked back into the dining room, he saw that most of the Sons had left. Rat, who he assumed was taking everyone else up the cabin, was left behind and talking to Jax. Gemma, Nero, and Wendy were noticeably absent from the room, probably getting their own belongings together for the trip.

“Jax, I need to talk to you.” He had to give himself credit for keeping a steady voice. “Get out, Rat.”

“Go help Wendy.” Jax ordered the Son as he took a cautious step toward his brother. “What’s going on, Stiles?”

“I need you to come with me.” They could not do this here, not with how noisy it would get when the truth started pouring out. “We need to go somewhere else so I can talk to you. There are too many people here.”

“What is this about?”

“Tara. It’s about what happened to Tara.” Jax looked at him like he had been slapped in the face before anger settled over his features. “Can we go somewhere else, please?”

“No. I don’t have time for this.”

“You don’t have time to learn who killed your wife?”

“I know who killed her.”

“No, you don’t.” He was starting to feel the same frustration that Abel had with him previously. “You think you know, but you don’t.”

“I killed the man who murdered my wife. I killed him in my kitchen. He died the same way she did.”

“It was the wrong man.” He never thought it would be easy to have this conversation with his brother, but he had no idea Jax would flat out refuse to listen to what he had to say.

“No, it wasn’t.” Jax shook his head.

“Jax – “

“Gemma saw the man who killed Tara. She pointed him out to me. Isn’t that right, Mom?” Stiles froze as Jax looked behind him. How long had Gemma been standing just over his shoulder, listening to him about to sell her out?

“That’s right, baby.” He didn’t have to turn around, he could feel the heat of her glare on his back.

“When you want the _truth,_ come and find me.” He grabbed a pair of sneakers by the door, hopefully his own, before walking out.

He stopped in the driveway, searching his pockets for the jeeps keys when he saw Chibs sitting on his bike, waiting for Jax.

“Alright, lad?”

“I’m fine.” He offered the older man a small smile. “You got anything to eat at your place or should I pick something up?”

“Probably should pick something up.” Chibs shrugged. “I don’t know when I’ll be there. I can give you my key so you can get in.”

“I have a key.” He waved off Chibs attempt to hand over his own.

“I never gave you a key. Why do you have a key?”

“I have keys to everyone’s houses.” Chibs was giving him the same look Melissa gave him when she learned he had a key to her house, like he was a little weirded out, but not all that surprised.

“Maybe you should go put in a few hours at TM and work out your frustrations.” The Scot noticed the blood dripping from where Stiles had his keys clenched in his fist. “Go work on a few cars or help Chucky with office crap. Work yourself out.”

“You think I’m losing it.” Work himself out. Work the crazy out of his head was more like it.

“I think we will talk about this tonight.”

“I think Juice is my old man, not you.” He did not need the nagging from someone he was not getting orgasms from. "He's the one I married."

“Juicy and I are a package deal, you know that.”

“Kinky.” He smirked at the older man.

“Not like that.” Chibs smacked a palm against his forehead. “Just go away.”

* * *

He had been feeling like crap all day. Like used to after a particularly bad asthma attack back when he was human. It couldn’t be a coincidence, given how close it was to the full moon. He had only been through a handful of them since becoming an Alpha, but this would be his first since being a berserker.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His mother asked as she poked her head into the room. “You’ve been in bed all day.”

“I’m okay, Mom.” He assured her. “Just tired.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Full moon tomorrow. It’s better if I sleep through it anyway.” He would rather sleep it away than deal with the energy boost it came with.

“Okay. I’m going to work. Call me if you need anything.”

* * *

Chibs may have had a point about him being frustrated. Working at TM? Not actually helping. If anything, dealing with customers was only increasing his poor attitude. He got yelled at by Chucky of all people. Chucky. That was like being yelled at by Scott. Granted, the verbal berating wasn’t unfounded. He probably should not have called the owner of a new Cadillac a pretentious dirtbag and slammed the hood of the car down with more force than necessary, but the dude was a dick.

“Hey, Stiles – “

“Chucky, I’m sorry. I should not have snapped at that guy. You were right about sending me in here. I’m doing much better with the receipts than I did with the customers.” He patted the stack of receipts he had been working on since being banished to the office.

“Yeah, thanks for the help with those.” Chucky came up to the desk and looked at Stiles expectantly. “Gemma’s looking for you.”

“Here I am.” He leaned back in the office chair, waiting for her to sweep in and lash out at him for what he had tried to do this afternoon.

“She’s in the old clubhouse. She wants you to meet her in there.” He jerked his fake thumb in the direction of the former SAMCRO headquarters. “She goes in there sometimes when she’s feeling nostalgic.”

“I don’t think it is nostalgia she’s feeling right now.” He jotted down a quick phone number on a piece of paper and held it out to the other man. “If I don’t come back out, call that number and tell him that Gemma has finally done it.”

“Um, okay. Whose number is this?”

“My dad’s.” He stood up at patted Chucky on the back who seemed confused as to why Stiles was giving him his father’s number. “Seriously, if you don’t see me come back out, call my dad.”

“Why wouldn’t you come back out?”

“Gem and I are in a giant game of truth, lies, and murder.”

"Okay.” Chucky nodded along as if he understood, but it was clear that he did not. “Oh, was there any word on Bobby?”

“No, not that I’ve heard.” He gave the other man’s shoulder a squeeze before exiting the office.

He tried not to feel like he was walking to the guillotine as he crossed the parking lot. He knew he should not have baited her the other day, but sometimes he couldn’t help but challenge her. He should not have tried to get Jax to listen to the truth while Gemma was still in the house, that was sloppy work. He took too many chances and now he was walking into a debilitated clubhouse because he had gotten careless.

“Honestly, I thought it would be Nero.” He said to the room at large, not seeing, but hearing the clacking of her boots behind him. “I don’t know why. Even if you asked him, he could never do it. He’s weak. He feels too much.”

“Nero is strong. He would do it if I asked.” She growled to his back.

“He wouldn’t. He has too many morals.” He couldn’t help but laugh at that. To think that Gemma would choose a man that had a code that went beyond earning money or keeping territory was hilarious. “And that is why you’re with him, right? He reminds you of JT.”

“You didn’t know JT.”

“I didn’t, but I know why you killed him.” John Teller had grown a conscience after losing Thomas. “He realized how shitty of a person he was to be off in another country, knocking up some teenager, while his youngest child was dying and his wife and oldest son could only watch it happen.”

“Shut up.” The sound of her gun cocking didn’t scare him, it was expected actually.

“It was too little too late though, wasn’t it, Gem?” He felt bad for her, truly. She had to watch her little boy die while her husband was off making a new family. “You had already moved on to someone who had been there for you.”

Clay hadn’t been weak. He had been strong enough to shoulder her when JT couldn’t be bothered to return home. If he had come back sooner, sat with her at Thomas’s bedside, things might have been different. JT might still be alive. He might have put the club on the right track. Jax might still have Tara. Stiles may have never been born.

“Clay was too much for you though.” Clay had been the devil on one shoulder that tainted the angel that sat on the other. “He got too dark and too violent. You couldn’t pull him back in. You failed with him, just like you failed with JT. Now, you are trying to repeat history. You want a do-over with Nero starring as JT.”

“Nero is nothing like my JT.” Stiles did not need to be a wolf to hear that lie. “He would be here doing this, if I asked him to, but I wanted this one for myself.”

“You brought me into this world so you can take me out of it.” It would be almost adorable if that were what was going on. “You don’t like getting your hands dirty, Gem. You delegate that shit. Unfortunately, you can’t this time around. There is too much going on and people would ask why you wanted me dead. You would have to tell them the truth.”

“That you betrayed your brother.”

“I betrayed him to protect his children.” What a bastard he was to think that those boys deserved better than this life could provide. “You don’t even know the full extent of my betrayal, but it doesn’t even matter. If I have to die for it, it will be by Jax’s hand, not yours.”

“He couldn’t kill you, not without killing himself.” That was a touch over dramatic. Jax may not be able to kill him and just get on with his life, but it would not completely ruin him. His life wasn’t worth that much to his brother, not anymore. “If it’s not me, then it would be another Son to do that job.”

“Why?” This wasn’t a club beef. “I’m not a club member. I did not betray the club.”

“You betray your brother, you betray the cub.” Of course, because those two things were synonymous.

“Is that why you brought me here?” He spread his arms wide, resting his palms against two support beams on either side of him. “You want to kill me at the Sons of Anarchy’s original clubhouse because you think I betrayed something that I am not even a part of.”

“You would have been SAMCRO eventually. It never mattered how much you denied it. I would have made sure of it.” She would have given it the good old college try but would not have been successful. “You would have been wearing a prospects kutte by the time this place was rebuilt.”

“Lots of history here.” He remembered running up and down the halls as a child. He would always stop to marvel at the beauty of JT’s rebuilt bike. He remembered learning to play pool here, taught by Piney who had been left to babysit him when there was no one else to do it. “Out of curiosity, how many murders did you plan here? JT’s? Mine? Did you sit here after the police tape was gone and think about how you were going to kill Tara?”

“I didn’t mean for that to happen!”

“You repeatedly stabbed her in the head with a barbecue fork.” Whether she went to Jax’s house with that intent or not, didn't matter. “Then you dumped her on the floor like a piece of trash.”

“I thought she betrayed Jax! I-I didn’t know.” Her voice began to shake. “I didn’t know…”

“That doesn’t make it okay.” He told her. “You don’t even care, do you?”

“I loved her!”

“You loved JT and Clay, but you are still glad they are dead.” Gemma’s love was like a death sentence. “You kill the things you love, Gem. Is Jax next? Or will it be Abel?”

“I would never hurt my boys!” He could call bullshit on that. She had made a point of calling him her son, one of her boys, since he had been in Charming, and now she had a gun to his back. “I did all of this for them.”

“I’m sure that will be a real comfort for them when they learn the truth.” It will add the extra burden of guilt to their souls. “When _I_ tell them the truth.”

“They will never know. You won’t be telling them anything.”

“That’s right, because you are going to kill me.” He turned, shifting his body to finally face her head on. “Alright. Go ahead. Do it.”

“Turn back around.” She ordered.

“Nope.”

“Now!”

“What’s the problem, Gemma? You can’t look at me while you do it?” His eyes flickered to the gun then back up to her. “You can’t stand to look me in the eye while you do it? You can’t kill your own son?”

“You are not my son! I never wanted you!” Here it was, what he had been waiting to hear since he learned she was his biological mother. “You are nothing to me. I was forced to grow you inside of me because it was too late to abort you. You slithered your way out and that should have been the end of it.”

“It was. It should have been for you.”

“John never should have let Jax hold you. It ruined everything. You ruined everything!” It hurt. He couldn’t lie and say it didn’t. Even if it was something he had thought his entire life, hearing it said aloud by her made it worse. It could only hurt more if she actually meant what she was saying, but she didn’t. “You _ruin_ everything!”

“How do I ruin everything?” Was his very existence that much of a hindrance to her? “It is because I can see what you really are? Is it because I can see the vicious monster behind the loving mother? Or, because you know that one way or another I will be the reason that Jax will know your every sin? He will know, Gem. I will tell him everything.”

“You are not going to tell him anything.” He didn’t have to be the one to give his brother the truth. He wanted to be, but it did not have to be him. His father could be the one, or even Juice or Abel.

“What do you plan to tell Jax when I turn up dead? What lie are you going to spin? You’re not being smart about this. Chucky saw me come in here.” She had sent Chucky to lead him here. “That is a witness you don’t need. Are you going to kill him to?”

“I won’t have to lie or worry about a witness. We are at war. You will just be a casualty of it. Jax will blame one of Lin’s men or Marks.” Yes, because it was highly probable that they would attack him at the garage. “He will have no reason to believe otherwise.”

“Well, I guess you’ve got it all figured out.” He nodded along, like he agreed with her assessment of the situation. “Pull the trigger.”

The gun was already cocked as she moved forward. He did not let his gaze fall to the weapon again, not even when he felt the cold end of the barrel against his forehead. He stood stock still as her whole body began to tremble. He wasn’t afraid, he never had been, not of her. Not even when she had a bullet with his name on it ready to be shot from her guns chamber.

“What’s the problem? You were so confident before. What happened?” He noted her hesitation. “Pull the trigger, Mom.”

“Don’t you call me that!” She yelled. “You do not get to call me that. Not now.”

“Pull the trigger, mother dear.” He mocked her before sighing loudly. “You can’t do it, can you?”

Her arm dropped instantly leaving the gun at her side as her other hand came up to cover her crying eyes. He reached over, pulling the gun from her lax grip.

“We can both deny it all we want, but I’m still your blood and that means everything to you.” It was why she couldn’t kill him, but she could kill Tara and JT. “You can’t do this yourself. You need someone else to do it for you. The problem is, no one, aside from a hired gun, would do it without asking questions. So, I guess we’re at a bit of a standstill. What is your next play going to be? What trick do you have in your dwindling arsenal to stop me from telling Jax everything?”

“Please, sweetheart, you can’t tell him.” She begged him weakly.

“Jax isn’t willing to talk to me about it while Bobby is missing. I guess you have yourself a temporary reprieve. Use it wisely.” He wouldn’t grant her another one.

* * *

The reprieve did nothing to put her at ease as she looked over at her youngest child. He wasn’t looking at her any differently than he did normally. There was no fear or anger on his face. It was resignation, as if he had been waiting for this, and maybe he had.

Stiles had always been able to read her better than most. Even as a child he would look at her like he knew exactly what she was thinking. Had she raised him that probably would not have been an issue. He would have trusted her enough not to question her. That was wishful thinking though. Stiles questioned everything and everyone. In some ways, Jax was the same, but that quality hadn’t become a problem until the elder had read JT’s manuscript and started questioning the club. Stiles had taken everything with a grain of salt since he learned to speak.

If he could ever be convinced to join SAMCRO then she had no doubt in her mind that together, Stiles and Jax could bring the club to its full potential. Jax would lead with a firm hand and Stiles would be his counsel. Stiles would be the steady hand Jax needed in the middle of all the chaos.

“I will not let Jax kill you.” His calm tone put her on edge more than if he had been yelling in her face.

“Why?” It was what he wanted wasn’t it? That would be the only reason he was so keen on telling Jax the truth.

“Tara deserves justice. You have to pay for what you did to her.” He took his focus from her to the gun, running his hands over the metal before holding it out to her. “Death is too easy and there has been enough of it.”

“I don’t understand.” She let her shaking hands take the gun from his.

“You have options, Gemma. You can turn yourself into the police. I wouldn’t recommend Lt. Jarry.” It was an unrealistic suggestion and they both knew it. “You could leave Charming and never come back. You would never be able to contact Jax or the Sons again. Or…”

“Or?”

“Or you could turn that gun on yourself.” He shrugged his shoulders in nonchalance. “Those are your choices. Once they find Bobby, and Jax is ready to learn the truth, then that choice is taken out of your hands.”

“If you are not going to let Jax kill me, then what do you plan to do with me?”

He had been adamant that death was not what he had waiting for her. Stiles could throw nasty words around but he was never outwardly cruel or physically harmful. He took a lot of care not to be in fact. She did not have any clue as to what punishment he had deemed fit for her and that was worrying.

“I guess we’ll find out soon.” She watched him leave the burnt out husk of a clubhouse without another word or look back.

As frightened as she was of whatever he had in store for her, she couldn’t help but see herself in his actions. She let a smile grace her face as she realized he was doing something she would do, whether he saw it or not.

“Everything okay, Gemma?” Chucky asked from the doorway.

“Yes, Chucky, everything is great.”

She had isolated a threat she saw in Tara. Her grandchildren were in her home. Wendy was doing as she was told. Jax was leading the way he was supposed to. And Stiles was doing exactly what she wanted him to do. He was giving in to the role he had always pushed away from. He may have been using that part of himself against her, but it would place him closer to where she wanted him. It would put him deeper within the clubs ranks.

“Everything is happening exactly the way it’s supposed to happen.” In the end, it wouldn’t matter what fate Stiles chose for her, because he was quickly following the path she had laid out for him.

* * *

It was pitch black both inside and outside of the house as he unlocked the front door. If it wasn’t for the familiar blue jeep in the driveway and a soft glow coming from the kitchen, he might have thought he was alone for the night. He dropped his keys in the bowl by the door, shucking off his kutte and draping it across the couch before making his way further into the house.

Stiles was sitting at the kitchen table, silhouetted by the ovens overhead light. He was leaned back in the chair, a tumbler of amber liquid sitting in front of him, a joint lit between his fingers, and a look of pure exhaustion marring his features. Christ, it was remarkable how much the boy looked like Jax when he got like this.

“You drinking my scotch and smoking my weed?” He asked as he sat in the adjacent chair at Stiles left.

“It’s your scotch, but Juice’s weed. I raided his house on my way over.” He offered the smoke to him.

“Well, if you married him then it’s yours anyway.” He replied taking a hit off the spiff.

“That is true.” Stiles chuckled. “Does it count if it’s just biker married?”

“For weed it does. Not much else though.” He was going to assume by biker married, Stiles meant he was essentially Juice’s old man. “Speaking of Juice, how was he?”

"What does it matter to you?"

"I may not be happy with his choices, but I still care." Even if he didn't want to. "He seemed in good spirits when you dropped him off, odd considering what was going on."

“That was for my benefit. It’s a little game we play.” The younger man looked down at his hands, counting his fingers, before taking a long swig of his drink. “We are what the other needs us to be. I was strong for him when his head was a mess. There were times when I needed to see if there was still a glimmer of his old self in there, so he let me see that there was.”

“That’s healthy.”

“It is what it is.”

“What happened with Jarry today?”

“Power play. I was a pawn.” _Was._ Either Stiles was going to refuse to be used as a pawn or Jarry did not find him to be useful enough. “I have to say that I am not a fan of your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” She was a quick screw that he needed to keep close.

“She’s bad news. She can’t be trusted.”

“Aye.” He was aware of how suspiciously easy it was to get her on their side.

“Just be careful.” Stiles urged him.

“I can take care of myself.” He’d been doing it for a long time now.

“Sometimes you could use the help.” The younger man replied before letting out a yawn. “I’m going to head off to bed.”

”You want me to grab some extra blankets for the couch or do you know where they are?” The kid had a key, it would not be surprising if he already knew where the spare blankets were. “Unless you want the bed. Being a guest you are welcome to it.”

“We can’t share?” He asked with a pout.

“I’ve shared a bed with you before. You kick.” He didn’t need any more bruises, thank you very much. “Jax said when you wake up from a night terror you do it violently. I don’t want to wake up being strangled.”

“You would rather me brain myself on the coffee table?” He sighed dramatically. “For your information, there will be no nightmares tonight. I took my special potion from Deaton an hour ago. Hopefully it works.”

“If it doesn’t work?”

“We should probably move the coffee table.” Stiles said thoughtfully. “On that small ass couch I’m liable to end up on the floor without a nightmare as an excuse.”

“You get them every night?”

“No, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.” Stiles downed the rest of his drink. “Hey, um, Bobby is going to be okay, right? He’s okay?”

“He’s alive.” He could tell that it wasn’t a good enough answer. Stiles loved Bobby. He was family and he wanted Chibs to be honest. “He’s hurt but he’s alive.”

“How bad off is he?” It was time like this, like the one from earlier, when Stiles went from civilian to soldier, when he stood a little taller, a little steadier, ready to assess the situation, that Chibs wondered what happened to him. Was it was the supernatural that turned him into this or was it something more?

“They took an eye and a few fingers.” There was no use in glossing over it. Stiles would find out eventually. “We give Marks what he wants and we get Bobby back.”

“When do you plan to get him back?” Chibs hesitated then, that was privileged information. It was information that could put Stiles in the danger if he tried to tag along. “I can help. I can call Scott.”

“What can Scott do?”

“He can bite Bobby. Turn him in to a werewolf. If Bobby lost an eye and some fingers and hasn’t received proper medical care, the risk of infection and blood loss…” Stiles shuddered at the possibilities of what could go wrong even after they got Bobby back. “The bite could help.”

“We will talk to Jax about putting Scott on standby, yeah?” It was a good idea if Bobby took a turn for the worse. “What happened to keeping Beacon Hills and Charming separate?”

“I’m willing to make an exception to save a life.”

* * *

“Sheriff,” Scott was out of breath as he and Derek rushed into the older man’s office. “I need your help.”

“What happened, Scott?”

“My mom’s gone. She never came home from work last night.” His chest constricted painfully as he fought to take another breath. “I called the hospital and they said she never came back from her lunch break, but her car is still in the parking lot.”

“Have you tried calling her cell phone?” John put a reassuring hand on Scott's shoulder.

“She’s not answering.”

“We have Malia and Liam at the hospital trying to catch her scent, but she works there so it’s all over the place. It’s difficult to track where she might have gone.” Derek informed him.

“We’ll put out an APB for Melissa. Scott, you know your mothers scent better than anyone, you should be at the hospital to help track her.” Scott let out a distressed sound at the suggestion. “What? What else is going on?”

“I can’t shift.” Scott admitted. “That is the other problem.”

“He’s not a werewolf anymore. I can’t smell wolf anywhere on him.” Derek stated looking more than a little confounded by it.

“How does that happen?” John demanded an answer.

“I don’t know. I’ve never heard of it before.” The older wolf said. “We’re going to Deaton’s to ask about it after we leave here.”

“Good, you deal with that problem.” John grabbed his jacket from the coat rack. “Scott, do you know anyone or anything that would take your mother?”

“We think it might be Kate Argent.” The Alpha, or former Alpha it seemed, relayed. “She’s been making her way back here since we left Mexico.”

“How do you know that?”

“Stiles friend Juice is a hacker. He tracked security footage and a credit card trail for us before he left.” Derek explained. “She’s been using Allison’s name.”

“I appreciate you keeping me informed that a psychopath, that de-aged one of you and changed the other one of you into a berserker, was on her way back to town.” The sheriff looked disappointed and highly irritated with them. “Call Stiles and make sure he knows what’s going on. He needs to know about the threat.”

"Yes sir."

* * *

“What?” Chibs mumbled into his cellphone as he answered it.

 _“Get Stiles and get to Red Woody. Everyone comes in now._ ” Jax’s angry voice commanded.

“Jax?”

_“Someone attacked Nero’s car en route to the cabin. They took Gemma and Abel, and left Nero and Quinn behind.”_

“I’ll get Stiles and we’ll be right there.”

He was out of bed and halfway out of the room before he hung up. As he reached the living room, he knew something wasn’t right. The couch Stiles had slept on the night before was empty, but there were deep gashes in the sofa’s cushions. The kid’s jacket was over the arm of a chair, where it had been abandon the night before, but his car keys and cellphone were gone and Stiles was nowhere in sight.

“What the hell is going on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter Preview: [Control is Overrated.](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/108317985069/mama-gemma-au-control-is-overrated-19-chapter/)  
> [TUMBLR](http://www.stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/)  
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> Thank you for all the comments and kudos, they are greatly appreciated.


	9. I Am No Devil But I've Got Things On My Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta'd.  
> Chapter title is from Too Much Blood by The Gaslight Anthem.  
> Gif set: [Control is Overrated.](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/108317985069/mama-gemma-au-control-is-overrated-19-chapter)
> 
> I told some of you that this would be up last week. I was sick and then I had a long rewrite to do for part of it. I am sorry for the delay.

It felt like she had been drugged when she came to. Her eyes refused to cooperate for several minutes, swollen together with crusted sleep. When she finally managed to force them open she was greeted by the harsh light of day.

“Oh, hell.” She reached her hands, or tried to, up to rub her tired eyes, only to realize she had been restrained. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah, you’re a bit tied up.” A somewhat familiar voice sounded to her left. It took every ounce of strength she had to just turn her head toward the voice. “I’m Melissa. Scott’s mom.”

“I remember.” Melissa was still in her nurses scrubs, but tied up as well. They were seated on the ground, wrists were bound behind them, but their feet were free. “I’m uh – “

“Gemma. Yeah, I remember you too.” They had left a lasting impression on each other that was for sure. “She grabbed me while I was walking back into the hospital. How did she get you?”

“She? No. There was no she.” The thing that grabbed her didn’t have a gender. It wasn’t human. She had seen it right before she lost consciousness. “There were these things. I think they had animal skulls for faces.”

“Berserkers.”

“There was one standing in the middle the road. We tried to swerve but another one rammed our car.” It had been so dark and it happened so quickly that she barely caught a glimpse before the thing had grabbed her and – “Abel! They took Abel! They have my grandson!”

“He’s fine.” Melissa nodded toward the sleeping for of a little boy lying a few feet away from them. “He was awake earlier. She’s got him chained up, but he seems okay. You don’t happen to know where we are, do you? I know we aren’t in Beacon Hills anymore, I was in a car too long for that.”

“I don’t know.” The building they were in looked like one of Oswald’s warehouses where the club housed the guns before they were shipped. “Just outside of Charming, maybe. Why are we here?”

“She wants payback for something that the pack was not at fault for.” The other woman said with a shrug of her shoulders. “It doesn’t matter to her. She blames them, so they have to pay. We’re the bait.”

“You don’t seem too worried about this.” She didn’t seem the least bit bothered by their circumstances.

“Well, I don’t think she has any plans to come in here, strangle us with a garrote, slit our throats, and sacrifice us to a magical tree. So, this is a step up from the last time I was kidnapped.”

“Your life is different than other peoples.”

“That’s funny coming from you.” Melissa chuckled. “As long as my son doesn’t take an ice bath to sacrifice himself for me and Stiles doesn’t get possessed by an evil spirit, I think we’ll be okay.”

* * *

 

Jax sat at the head of the table, hunched over an ashtray, cigarette dangling between his lips. He fought to keep himself steady, to keep his hands from shaking. He had to keep his emotions in check, despite how his mind was reeling.

Bobby had been missing for two days. The first night he had lost an eye. They had been sent to them in a box. The second night, last night, they had received four of his fingers. He didn’t know what Bobby would lose if they left him in Mark’s hands one more night.

A few hours after receiving the package from August, he had gotten a panicked phone call from Nero, saying something had slammed into his car. Gemma and Abel had been taken. The only solace he could find was in that his brother had refused to go up the cabin, insuring his safety. Wendy, Brooke, and Thomas had left earlier in the day, escorted by Rat. They had arrived promptly and unharmed. He could be at ease with that knowledge, for just a little bit.

He kept his eyes locked with the reaper carved into the table as his brothers started to filter in. They were all quiet and subdued as they took their seats. They sat at attention, waiting for him to give them an order. All but one of them.

“What is it Chibs?” What else could possibly go wrong today?

“Stiles wasn’t there when I woke up this morning.” Chibs sank lower into his chair as he spoke. “His stuff was gone. There were gashes on my couch, looked like they were made by a dog. His car being gone makes me think he left willingly, but the claw marks tell a different story. I don’t know what happened, brother.”

“So, he left or he was taken.” They were at the same standstill with Stiles now as they were yesterday. God damn it. He was going to buy his brother a leash or handcuff him to a radiator in the clubhouse. “So we have Nero saying _something_ took Gemma and Abel, and claw marks on your couch… I don’t think this is August.”

“You think it was Lin’s guys? Werewolves?” Tig asked.

“No. The werewolves we saw before looked relatively human, shifted or not. You wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between us and them in the dark when you’re still out of it after your car has rolled.” Nero had been a hundred percent sure that whatever it was that attacked the car was not human. “It’s something supernatural but I don’t know what.”

“Our resident weird-shit expert is in the wind, so…”

“Chibs, call Jarry. Make sure she hasn’t picked up Stiles on some bogus charge again.” He still had to deal with that mess later. “One of you try Stiles phone, maybe he’ll pick up. I’m gonna get a better description of what attacked the car from Nero, and then I’m going to call Scott to see if he can tell me what it was and how to kill it.”

“So, you think Lin or Marks has some other monster on their payroll or does this maybe have nothing to do with us?” It was an honest question that came out hesitantly.

“I think we should be open to all possibilities.”

* * *

 

He felt the change the moment it happened. The rush of power enveloping his body, digging its way between his bones. It was enough to shock him awake from an otherwise restful sleep. When he opened is eyes everything was tinted in a deep red hue. He could feel claws, his claws, extend from his fingers and puncture the pitiful excuse for a couch. He could hear Chibs raggedy breathing from across the house and through a closed door.

It felt as if his senses were overloading and his head would explode if he couldn’t shut off all the noise and dim the lights a bit. He needed to get up, get out and away. He needed to shut all of it down. He needed to be somewhere quiet so he could get a hold of himself.

That need led him here. To the cemetery, because, what was quieter than a bunch of dead people? The coffins and freshly cut grass kept his nose safe from the smell of decomposition. The trees offered shade from the overbearing sunshine. And the dead? They brought him comfort.

“Hey Ope.”

He felt an odd sense of calmness wash over him as he sat on the hard ground, knees drawn to his chest, staring at the headstone of his fallen brother. Opie always had that effect on him. He didn’t even have to say much. He mere presence had always helped settle Stiles. It seemed to work in death as well, because the claws that had been ever present since he had woken up had finally retracted. His eyes were tinting back to their normal color scheme. And, the sounds of absolutely _everything_ drowned back to normalcy.

“I guess that’s what an anchor feels like.” It wasn’t a surprise that it would be Ope.

Opie was and would always be a paragon of strength to Stiles. He was steady, strong in a way that Jax could never be. He could always pull Stiles and Jax back when they had lost themselves in the chaos of the world or their own minds. When Jax was in jail it was Opie he had turned to, who was there. Opie had seen Stiles through his first year in dealing with the supernatural and hadn’t even known it.

“I miss you, man.” He could really use the older man’s guidance right now. “Jax misses you.”

Jax needed Opie. Jax needed Opie to keep him straight, to point him in the right direction. Without Opie to be his moral compass, Jax would only make one bloody decision after another until it finally killed him.

“All of this has to end. You get that, right? You would understand that, I think.” Opie lost his wife and father because of the club, because of Clay. Then he had lost his own life and left his second wife widowed and his children orphaned. “The question is, can I keep Jax's kids safe in Beacon Hills? Are they honestly going to be safer with me and the pack then they are with Jax and the club? They’re either surrounded by gun fire or the supernatural.”

Their father was at war, while he had woken up this morning as a werewolf. Neither of them were exactly in the position to take care of the kids. Jax had problems controlling his anger on a good day and Stiles would be having the same issue if he didn’t figure out how the hell he turned into an alpha werewolf in the middle of the night.

“Even suggesting the boys would be safer with me right now would be irresponsible.” He would need to know what was going on and how the fuck to fix it before he even floated the idea of taking the boys back to Beacon Hills with him. “It is just my luck that I would turn into this when I am ready to finish up things here. I just wanted to tell Jax what happened to Tara, get the kids, and get the hell out. I would go to school, wait for Juice to finish his time, and then we would live happily ever after. I’m obviously delusional.”

It wouldn’t be that easy. It would never, and was never, going to be that simple. His newly acquired alphaness just further complicated things. If he couldn’t keep himself in check then he had no business being anywhere near Abel or Thomas, or anyone for that matter.

The thing was, he didn’t feel all that different. He was more aware than he had ever been. Objectively he knew he had claws, he had seen them. He knew his eyes were red because he had seen through them. He had felt the power, but it was nothing like he had been expecting. The way Scott had reacted to it when he turned made Stiles believe that it was huge and overbearing. To him it just wasn’t.

“It’s kind of disappointing actually.” Of course Scott didn’t feel much of a difference until his first full moon, so Stiles could be in for one hell of a night. “I’ll just have to keep myself away from everyone until tomorrow. Just to be safe.”

He took one last look at his surroundings as he made his decision. He looked to his left and saw Donna’s grave, her picture smiling back at him. Piney's ashes were buried not far from the other Winston's. If he looked up a ways he would see Tara’s, sitting prominent and new, all by herself. Half-sak was around here somewhere aswell. There was someone else here to, that Stiles hadn’t seen.

“I’ll come see you again soon, Ope.” He promised as he stood. “I’ll bring flowers for Donna and Tara. I’m sorry I couldn’t today. I don’t know when I’ll be back but I’ll be here before I leave Charming. Look out for Jax, yeah? I’ll make a point to check in on Lyla and the kids.”

He cast one last glance at the headstone, resting a hand on top of it, a silent goodbye, before moving on. He walked down a different path, one unfamiliar to him. No one had ever brought him here and he had never come on his own, but he knew exactly who he was looking for as he past each grave marker before stopping at the correct one.

A tricycle adorned the grey stone. Fresh flowers packed beside it told him that someone had visited recently. The name etched into the massive rock glared back at him like a ghost shouting _boo._

“Hey Tommy."

THOMAS WAYNE TELLER, the stone read.

* * *

 

“This place smells funny.” Liam covered his nose as the scent hit him.

The others of the supernatural persuasion nodded their agreement as they filed out of the van in the parking lot of the address Jax had given them. After learning that Gemma and Abel were taken by something obviously inhuman, and only hours after Melissa had gone missing, they had gathered the pack and headed straight for Charming.

“Well, uh, it’s not going to smell much better inside.” Scott said looking sheepish. “It’s a porn studio.”

“Of course it is.” John scrubbed a hand down his face. “Let’s go in and find out what’s going on. Everyone with supernatural sniffers breathe through your mouths.”

Jax and the rest of SAMCRO were settled around a bar as they came in. Aside from the club the studio was much emptier now than the last time Scott had been here. Jax looked for all the word like nothing was wrong, like his mother and son hadn’t been kidnapped. Scott could see through it, though. He had seen that look plenty of times on Stiles face. It was the ability to stow his emotions until the immediate threat was gone. It’s part of what makes Stiles a good pack mate, what would make him a good Son, and what will make him a good cop.

“Hey,” Jax greeted them. “Thanks for coming.”

“We would have helped either way, but whatever has Gemma and Abel has my mom too, so here we are.”

“Uh, quick introductions before we get down to everything.” John stated, taking control of the situation. “You all have met myself, Scott, and Derek. This is Kira, Liam, Malia, Lydia, Braeden, and Parrish.”

“Stiles has mentioned you guys before.” The SAMCRO president eyed each one of them critically with thinly veiled suspicion before beginning his own introductions. “I’m Jax – “

“Stiles’ brother?” The invisible air quotes were heard loud and clear in Lydia’s voice. It was almost as if she didn’t believe Stiles could be related to a biker.

“You got a problem with that, darling?” Jax shot back at her. The redhead leveled him a with an unimpressed look but said nothing further. “These are my guys. This is Chibs, Tig, Montez, Happy, Quinn, and that’s Nero.”

“Now that everyone knows everyone you can tell me where my son is.” The sheriff’s tone gave them no room for arguments. His eyes went Jax immediately, but the Jax’s gaze flickered to Chibs. “It’s not a hard question, boys.”

“He slept at my place last night. I woke up this morning and he was gone. All that was left were some claw marks on my sofa.” The Scot answered, sending a glare to his president for putting him in the hot seat.

“How come you didn’t tell me she had Stiles too?” It was Scott’s turn to glare at Jax.

“We don’t know if someone took him or he left.” Jax said. “Who is _she_?”

“Well, Stiles doesn’t have claws, so how do you explain the claw marks, sunshine?” Malia questioned, the _you idiot_ undertones were not lost on anybody.

“Maybe he does now.” Lydia suggested. “Scott’s wolf had to go somewhere, right? Stiles is Scott’s second in command. Logically he would be the next Alpha in line if something were to happen to Scott.”

“If Stiles were a werewolf, yeah, but he isn’t.” Derek corrected. “A human can’t just become an Alpha without the wolf. It doesn’t pass on that way just because your second happens to be human. And Scott’s fine. He would have to be dead to lose his wolf.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s fine. If we ignore the fact that he woke up this morning entirely human with no trace of werewolf on him.” Braeden started sarcastically. “He is just peachy.”

“We know that Kate is behind the kidnappings and that she had Scott a few weeks ago.” Lydia brought the conversation back around. “Maybe she anticipated the chance of her other plan not working. This could be her failsafe.”

“Who is Kate?” Jax asked, only to be ignored again.

“She had Scott and me, not Scott and Stiles.” Kira put in. “I don’t think she could just will him to be a wolf and then make him one.”

“That’s true.” The redhead turned to the club. “Has Stiles done anything odd lately?”

“Have you ever actually met Stiles?” Tig asked with a chuckle.

“The only thing I can think of is taking that potion or whatever that Deaton gave him for his nightmares.” Chibs admitted.

“Deaton didn’t give him anything.” He would have told Scott if he had.

“Someone dropped off a vial of something yesterday and said they were Deaton. Stiles took it before he went to sleep last night.”

“Tell me exactly what this person looked like.” They knew Kate was behind it, but they needed to know if she had any one working for her.

“We didn’t see her. Wendy and Brooke did.”

“Then call them. We need to know who dropped off that vial.”

* * *

 

The women had sat together in silence since their small conversation earlier that morning. Abel hadn’t woken up again, Melissa had a feeling that he had been drugged to keep him calm and complacent. No kidnapper wanted a frightened child on their hands.

“How is everyone doing this afternoon?” A voice drawled as the woman sauntered in to the room. “Getting along I hope?”

“Who the hell are you?” Gemma growled and her Melissa struggled not to roll her eyes at the older woman’s attempts to be threatening. “What do you want with me and my grandson?”

“Haven’t you told her anything?” Kate asked the nurse as she squatted down to eye level with them. She flashed a reassuring smile to Gemma as she spoke. “I don’t want you or the boy. I want your son.”

“Stiles is a bit old for you, isn’t he?” Melissa quipped, earning a steely scowl. “I thought you went for emotionally damaged teenagers? Stiles is an adult and not as damaged as some might think.”

“He and Scotty both have these adorable brown eyes,” She batted her eyelashes for effect. “I might rip them out of their skulls and eat them.”

“I’d like to see you try.” The bad guys always seemed to underestimate her boys.

“I will try and I could fail. I know that.” Kate mused. “They won’t kill me, though. They’ve had their chances since I came back. So, I’ll go away and come up with a new plan, then another and another. Eventually, I won’t fail. I will have the bodies of Scott and Stiles at my feet and then I’m going to kill the rest of that sorry excuse for a pack.”

* * *

 

“So, let’s say that Stiles is the alpha.” Jax pondered after the pack determined that it was in fact a woman named Kate that dropped off the vial. “Is that really a big issue right now?”

“We should focus on the finding the missing.” Happy insisted. “ _All_ of the missing.”

“It’s a full moon tonight. A freshly bitten beta struggles with control during their first couple moons. I would have killed someone or been killed on mine if not for Derek.” Scot admitted guiltily. “If I had been an alpha on my first full moon, I can’t imagine that kind of damage I would have done.”

“You're saying that Stiles could very well go on a killing spree tonight?” Chibs asked incredulously. “Stiles?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the whole point of this. Why else would she turn Stiles into a werewolf, let alone an alpha? The more power, the more control he needs. The less control he has the more carnage there will be.” Lydia commented. “She wants him to be out of control.”

“What was the point of taking hostages then?”

“She wants us to suffer before she kills us. Or he kills us.” Scott murmured more to himself than anyone. “She wants us to watch them die at the hands of one of our own. Then we kill him and she kills us, or he kills us and she kills him.”

“But why?” That was the question the club did not ask very often in this kind of situation. “What is all this about? What did you do to her? What did she do to you?”

“She turned Scott into a berserker when she had him. Before that, she turned Derek back into a sixteen year old for a wild weekend.” Braeden disclosed not hiding her irritation at the accusation that this was somehow the packs fault.

“And that was years after she sexually manipulated Derek the first time he was sixteen and then burned his family alive.” Scott shot Lydia disapproving glare at how casually she had dragged out Derek’s business, while the man himself shifted uncomfortably beside them. “Derek’s creepy uncle Peter killed her in revenge but she came back. He cut just a little too deep when he slit her throat and it turned her into a jaguar instead of killing her.”

“This isn’t about any of that.” Scott told them. “She went after Stiles family, not just Stiles. She went after my mom, not me. She’s using Allison’s name. This is about Allison, not about what Peter did.”

“Allison? Stiles friend that was killed in a mugging?” Jax asked, thinking back on what Stiles had said about losing friends.

“She was Kate’s niece. The official statement said it was a mugging. We couldn’t exactly put supernatural circumstances on a police report, especially with the FBI sniffing around.”

“What actually happened to her?” Jax didn’t miss the way several members of the pack looked to each other, silently debating over what to tell them, before Scott finally took the lead and answered.

“Nogitsune.” The kid shuddered. “Or, the oni, technically. She died saving our lives. Kate blames us for her death.”

“If she blames all of you then why is she only targeting two of you?”

“Long story.”

“Kate taking hostages, on a specific night, with the end game being Stiles killing said hostages, means that she will be in contact.” John concluded, effectively cutting off any questions that the club might still have about the beef between Kate and the pack.

“Is she going to be in contact with all of us or just Stiles?” Malia brought up a good point. “Does she want us to watch him kill them or just see the aftermath and react?”

“We find Stiles and he will lead us to her when she wants him to.” Parrish deduced. “All we have to do is track Stiles.”

“Yeah.” Scott nodded and looked to Chibs. “He was at your house, so we’re going to need that address to find out where he went from there.”

“Sure, uh, here.” Chibs scribbled the information down on a napkin and handed it over. “He took his jeep.”

“That’s got a specific stench to it as well.” Derek confessed, scrunching up his nose.

“I hate to fucking do this, but, we have something we need to take care of. It can’t wait.” They were getting Bobby back today, in just a little while, and Jax could not afford to compromise that. “Werewolf stuff is yours. I can’t begin to understand it and this is your beef not ours. We are going to go do what we need to do and let you take the lead on this. If you find Stiles or Kate, call us and we will be there to back you up. It is still my family out there.”

“You all would just be in the way, muddling the scent anyway.” Lydia retorted hotly.

“What would you know about it?” Liam scoffed at the redhead. “You’re a banshee. You can’t smell like us.”

“No, but I know that having too many people around can muck up a scent trail. Only the wolves should follow Stiles smell. The rest of us should go somewhere and get a halfway decent plan lined up.” She suggested.

“Stiles comes up with our plans.” Scott reminded her.

“That is why she said a halfway decent plan, not a good one.” Braeden patted the former alpha on the back.

“You can use my mom’s house. No one is there right now.” Jax offered, removing the key from his keychain. “We have to head out. Call me when you find Stiles or anyone else.”

“We will.”

* * *

 

“You know, when I imagine what Stiles mother would be like, I don’t really think… this.” Lydia declared glancing around Gemma’s living room. “I think homely school teacher, not…”

“Not biker queen?” Braeden offered. “I can see it actually.”

“Stiles mother was a photographer and an activist.” John glowered at them. “She was not a biker queen. Her name was Claudia, not Gemma.”

“Sorry.” Braeden said sincerely.

“He looks like her.” Lydia apparently chose to ignore his statement to spy the pictures on the wall, stopping at one of two blond haired boys. “I’m guessing one is Jax. Who is the other boy?”

“Thomas. Jax’s younger brother and Stiles older one.” The one he never got to know. “He died before Stiles was born. He had a heart condition.”

“Hereditary?”

“Yes. Gemma and Abel have it. His uncle Nathaniel died from it. Jax was born with it. Thankfully it skipped Stiles.” That didn’t mean Stiles wouldn’t pass it on to his own children one day, if he had any.

“She loses one child, then goes and has a one night stand and gets knocked up. Stiles is her replacement child?”

“Thomas died six years before Stiles was born. If Gemma was going to replace him, she would have done it a hell of a lot sooner and with one of her husbands.” She would never have let Stiles go if that were the case. “Now, did you come here to help or to nitpick through Stiles other life?”

“I’m helping.” She raised her hands in surrender. “I’m just curious. It’s not like Stiles to keep secrets from the pack.”

“Have you ever actually met Stiles?” He couldn’t help but repeat Tigs earlier statement. “Honestly, it’s like you don’t know him at all.”

“Maybe we don’t. Outside of Scott, none of us knew about this other life – “

“Did you ever ask? Did you ever talk to him about anything that did not have to do with the latest werewolf crisis or which lunatic you plan to date next?” Oh, she was giving him the _so that’s where Stiles gets it from_ look. Yes, his son was a bit of an asshole who asked strange questions at inopportune times. He knew those were traits he instilled upon his child and he was damn proud of it. “I know you think of him as your confidant, a friend, and a pack mate, but to most of you, it’s pretty one sided.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It is. It’s not your fault, really. Stiles, for all he talks, isn’t really interested in letting people, even ones he's close to, get to know him deep down. He’s learned not to let too many people into his head or in on his secrets. He learned that here.” He learned that with Gemma and with Clay, and several club members. “He might have told you about all this, though, if you had asked. He might have told you about Jax or even Gemma. You could have asked if he had siblings, he would have said yes, but you didn’t ask. If you feel like you don’t know him, then it’s because you haven’t really tried and he hasn’t offered.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” The young woman averted her eyes, looking thoroughly admonished.

“I didn’t say it to make you feel bad. I don’t want any of you to think you have to right to be angry or upset with him because you think he kept things from you.” If you stretched it incredibly thin then it could be a lie of omission, but he didn’t see it that way. “You can feel what you want to feel, that’s your choice, I just don’t want Stiles dealing with his friends feeling betrayed, because he didn’t tell you about this. Being his friend and being pack, does not give you free reign over every aspect of his personal life.”

“I’m pretty sure that Stiles will be the one feeling betrayed and hurt by the end of the day.” Braeden reasoned. “We did keep Kate’s return from him, and used his special friend to get information.”

“And there was that other thing with Juice.” Lydia added.

“What other thing with Juice?” John questioned, hoping it wasn’t anything too bad.

“I doubt he learns about that today, so I think we’re out of immediate danger of the new alpha’s wrath over that.” Braeden theorized.

“What other thing with Juice?” He asked again.

“That’s something you should talk to Scott and Derek about, Sheriff.”

“Aw hell.”

* * *

 

They had been walking around town for what felt like hours. For a place smaller than Beacon Hills, Charming sure had a lot of nooks and crannies to search through, and, unfortunately, Stiles scent had mingled into a lot of them.

“This is crazy. It smells like him everywhere.” Malia pouted as she leaned against a tree. “Beacon Hills doesn’t even have his smell ingrained like this and he lives there.”

“It can’t be that bad.” Scott had chosen to come along with them, despite the fact that he no longer had the ability to smell outside of normal range.

“No, she’s right. It’s everywhere. It was strongest at certain places,” Jax and Gemma’s houses held the strongest scents. A duplex they determined to be Juice’s, thanks to a lingering scent Derek recognized from his loft roof, also held a significant amount of a Stiles odor. Aside from Chibs house, the trail that seemed the most recent, had taken them to the cemetery. “It’s strange. It’s his smell but it’s not really his.”

“Is it because he’s the alpha now?” Kira asked. “Wouldn’t that change his scent?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t account for it being spread all over town.”

“It could be part of whatever made him an alpha, right? It could be something Kate did?” Parrish inquired. “She wants to throw us off. She doesn’t want us to find Stiles or her until the exact moment she wants us to.”

“It makes things all the more difficult.” Derek grunted. “Try his phone again, Scott. The sun is already going down. We need to find him sooner rather than later.”

“I get that we’re all freaked out because he’s a new alpha wolf on a full moon, but, I mean, he’s still Stiles. How bad could it be?” Liam spoke up. “I can’t see him going full rage monster or anything.”

“That’s because you weren't with us when he did.” Scott snapped before backtracking quickly. “He was possessed then, it wasn’t the same but… he wasn’t in control.”

“Control is overrated.” Malia said it like a prayer or a mantra she repeated every night.

* * *

 

Stiles knew he should have called the pack. He should have told them. The minute he had woken up with claws, he should have been on the phone asking them what the hell was going on. He knew what their answer would be, _I don’t know_ , followed by, _we should call Deaton_. And Deaton would give them the runaround and probably laugh manically inside his own head as he watched them chase their own tails.

He wasn’t expecting the pack to come looking for him. He had been sitting idly by Thomas’s grave for the better part of an hour when he had caught a whiff of them. He was confused when they didn’t come directly for him. They stood at Opie’s grave sniffing the air like they knew he had been there but weren’t sure where he went afterward. It was odd, Derek and Malia were like bloodhounds when they caught a scent, but now it was as if they couldn’t get a read on him.

He should have gone to them. He should have asked them what they were doing and Charming, because they were not supposed to be there. It was possible they told him in one of the dozens of texts and voicemails he had received from both the pack and the club, but he hadn’t bothered to check any of them. If something was happening, which it obviously was, he would feel the need to help and he did not know if he would be capable of that once the moon rose. However, he was getting increasingly more confident that Scott and Derek were just giant drama queens about the whole werewolf power thing as the day pushed on, so he might be worrying for nothing.

“Wimps.” He muttered under his breath as he stood, brushing the grass off his pants as he went.

He made a move to walk toward them, to let them know he was there, but something stopped him. A feeling of _no, bad, wrong,_ hit him like a punch to the gut _._ It was like a warning going off that kept him from getting closer to his pack. A pack he was now, temporarily, the alpha of.

“Fuck.” He was so not alpha material.

He knew he should suck it up, call Deaton, and get his cryptic answer. He should call his dad and Scott, tell them he was fine and he would see them after the moon. It was the least he could do if he couldn’t force himself to walk over to the pack members in the closest vicinity.

He reached in his pocket, pulling out his phone, only to have it vibrate in his hand, _Melissa_ flashing on the caller ID.

“Hey Melissa.” He tried to sound as normal as possible when he answered, but the world seemed to drop out from under him when a voice that did not belong to Scott's mother sounded from the other end of the line.

_“Uncle Stiles…”_

* * *

 

They lost Bobby. _He_ lost Bobby. Bobby was dead. He died right in Jax’s arms while trying to warn him. He had gotten Bobby killed. His body was lying in the back of the van at Jax’s feet, because Jax thought he could outsmart Marks, that he could make a deal. Marks who had trained under Pope, the same guy who had burned Tig’s daughter alive and was responsible for Opie’s death. He thought he could make a deal with that guy. How could he have ever thought that was possible? What the hell had he been thinking?

Revenge. That was what he had been thinking. It was the only thing that had been on his mind since his wife’s body had been forcibly removed from his arms and cuffs had been slapped around his wrists. Revenge was why Opie and his wife were dead. It was why Bobby was gone now too.

“Jax,” Chibs voice pulled him from his thoughts. The Scot and Happy had chosen to take places in the van with him, letting Quinn and Montez ride their bikes back to the cabin. “Scott texted. They haven’t found Stiles but they know where that Kate woman is.”

“You got an address?”

“Aye. It’s out in the sticks.”

“You, me, Happy, and Tig will meet them. Quinn, Montez, and Rat can handle things at the cabin.”

* * *

 

The moon was high in the sky when he arrived. He parked the jeep off the highway and hiked the rest of the way, hoping to give some semblance of surprise, which is useless when she was expecting him. The place he came upon was a warehouse that looked like one of the shady places far enough away from society that the club could store whatever illegal items they needed to store. Come to think of it, he was sure he saw a tree with the clubs _we buried someone here_ mark carved into it as he was walking up from his car.

He spared a glance at the moon as he considered the door. He was a werewolf, an alpha, he could use that to his advantage for as long as he had it. He used his hearing, listened intently. He could hear two things stomping around the other side of the warehouse, berserkers probably. They either didn’t notice or didn’t care that he was there. He could count four heartbeats inside. He couldn’t really discern them from another, but he was sure the calmest was Kate’s and the one beating like a jack rabbit belonged to Abel.

He wasn’t clear on if it was the wolf or just him that had him feeling a rush of anger, a need to rip Kate in half for thinking she had the right to go after his family. He let that anger carry him into the warehouse. He let it be his confidence. He stood taller than he normally would, he squared his shoulder. He may have cracked his neck like he had seen Derek do so many times before. He absolutely did not swagger in with the same cocky gait that his brother did, because, Jesus, if Jax looked like an idiot doing it then Stiles would look like a newborn giraffe.

“I hope I’m not late.” Was how he chose to announce himself as he strode into the building. He took stock of the room when he entered, something his father had taught him to do from a young age that had become second nature to him.

Gemma and Melissa were both sitting on the floor. Their hands tied behind their backs, the rope wrapped around their arms was more than likely tied around the support beams that stood behind both of them. Scott’s mother seemed relieved to see him. Gemma was pissed. They seemed okay otherwise. Abel wasn’t bound the same way they were. His right ankle was cuffed and chained to a post that stuck out of the ground. Stiles fought every instinct he had in him to keep himself from going to the boy and ripping the shackles away. The wolf inside of him wanted to crouch in front of the child and bare his teeth at any threat that dare cause him harm.

He stayed where he was, though, because even without using his werewolf sense’s he could see Kate in the corner. He had to know what game she thought they were playing before he made a move. He could hazard an educated guess as to what she was planning, having already worked out the why, but he would not endanger his family any more than he had to by jumping the gun, by moving too quickly and giving her the upper hand.

“Right on time, handsome.” She smiled predatorily at him. “You’re looking great, kid. I mean, for someone who hasn’t been sleeping well you look fantastic. How are you feeling?”

He knew how this bit went. She started off the same way with every man she wanted to bring down. She was better fit to be a siren than a were-creature. She was a seductress. A femme fatale. She used her looks and her husky voice to get under your skin. She would reel you in with promises of sex and leave your world in pieces at your feet. Yeah, he knew this bit.

“Fantastic.” He lied easily, flashing her a grin of his own. “I’ve got a lot of pent up energy, though. With my boo in the slammer I’ve got no way to work it out.”

“Oh, I am sure we can find a way to get rid of all that. You are not the only one feeling pent up.” She pushed off the wall and made her way toward him. Each step she took was calculating, slow and precise, he was almost mesmerized by it. Her manicured hand reaching out to touch his neck, caressing him, moving lower to his chest and settling there, snapped him out of whatever daze her strut had put him in.

“I’m a little out of your age bracket, aren’t I?” He didn’t move away from her touch, no matter how much he wanted to. He wasn’t going to show weakness here.

“Told you.” Melissa blurted out.

“I’m not really into Derek’s sloppy seconds.” The hand on his abs turned animal-like, claws digging into his skin at the insult.

“I wasn’t talking about me, handsome.” She patted his cheek, continuing on like he hadn’t offended her. “I was talking about them.”

“That’s disgusting.” The context did not even matter when she was referring to a woman he was biologically bound to, his nephew, and his surrogate mother.

“Not feeling it yet?” She pouted halfheartedly. “That’s okay. You will. Our other guests will be arriving soon. You will be more than ready by the time everyone gets here. You don’t have a problem performing for a crowd, do you?”

“Are we putting on a show?”

“Absolutely.”

* * *

 

They parked the van beside Stiles jeep, the club did the same with their bikes. They let the wolves lead the way up a rocky path. Stiles new scent standing out against the forests natural smells. The building they reached looked like a giant barn, old and a bit rickety, maybe on its last leg.

“It’s quiet.” Jax observed. “You sure this is the right place?”

“Five people inside. Two berserkers behind you.” Derek divulged, bearing his teeth at the monsters.

“Berserkers are the things with animal skulls on their heads?” Tig asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“You got a couple behind you too.” The older man pointed just behind the pack.

“Aw crap.” John instinctively reached for his revolver, though it would do little damage to the creatures.

“I don’t suppose you brought any explosives this time, Sheriff?” Lydia’s voice wavered as they were surrounded by the berserkers.

“I’m afraid not.”

They were being herded away from the warehouse. They had no other option but to go where the monsters wanted, or, to rush past them and attempt to make it through the door.

“Rule one of dealing with berserkers,” Braeden cocked her shotgun. “These don’t do much to slow them down, but they do piss them off.”

“How do we kill them?” Really, this is something they should have planned for before driving up here.

“You can blow them up or pull apart their skulls.” Neither were particularly easy things to do. “If you don’t have super healing then I suggest you stay out of grabbing range or risk more than a few broken bones, internal bleeding, or death.”

“You want us to stand back and let a couple of teenage wolves take care of it?” Chibs questioned, eyeing the pack who were all in the middle of shifting, if they had the ability. It was fangs, claws, and glowing eyes galore.

“Yes. Shoot to get their attention and the wolves can handle the close-quarter combat.”

“That might be an issue.” Happy grumbled when a berserker picked him up by the scruff.

* * *

 

Stiles couldn’t afford to offer any kind of reaction when the doors swung open. He could see his pack, his father, and members of SAMCRO being tossed around like ragdolls. There were more berserkers outside now then there were when he had first shown up. Two of them were stomping their way inside, Scott being dragged by one, Jax by the other. Both were dumped unceremoniously to the ground by the hulking masses before the door was closed again, sealing them off from everyone else.

“Mom, are you okay?” Scott asked the moment he regained his bearings.

“I’m fine, sweetheart.” Melissa was quick to reassure him. “We’re all fine.”

“Well, I only wanted Scott,” Kate clicked her tongue as she eyed Jax. “I suppose you can stay.”

“You know who I am?” Jax questioned her, deadly intent lacing his voice.

“I do. Jackson Teller. President of the Sons of Anarchy. Brother of Mieczysław Nathaniel Thomas Stilinski.” Stiles cringed at his full name while the woman giggled. “Yes. I did my homework, Stiles. I suppose your big brother can stay. He can watch you kill your mother and nephew in penance for your crimes.”

“Why don’t I just shoot you right now,” Jax drew his gun, aiming directly at her head. “Problem solved.”

“My little friends here would rip your son to pieces before my body hit the ground.” She said conversationally.

“Listen to me very carefully,” Each word was enunciated deliberately, the promise of destruction behind each one. “If you touch one hair on my son's head – “

“Shut up, Jackson.” He ordered his brother before he could finish making the demand.

“What?” The look his brother shot him would be menacing if Stiles did not see the question underneath.

Jax could read Stiles nearly as well as Stiles could read Gemma. Stiles knew that his brother understood that by telling him to shut up, he was telling him to keep his cool and trust Stiles to handle it. Keep his mouth shut and his ass where it was and Stiles would get them out of this alive, because this was not a club thing, this was pack business, and Jax had no authority here.

“Shut your mouth and do not open it again.” He ordered. The click of his brother’s jaw snapping shut told Stiles what he needed to know. Jax would do what he asked and he hoped Scott would do the same. “You too, Scott. Do not speak again.”

“You’re feeling it now, aren’t you?” The jaguars delighted tone made Stiles want to shiver in disgust.

“I don’t know, Kate. What am I supposed to be feeling?” He crossed his arms over his chest, masked his face with a bored expression. He was the picture of nonchalance and it was already starting to grate on her nerves, he could tell. “I’ve received so many conflicting opinions on that lately, but I would be happy to hear yours.”

“The moon, handsome.” She trailed her fingers down his arm, before taking one of his hands in her own and rubbing his knuckles. “The pull. The energy. The animal instinct.”

He let his claws extend in her palm. His eyes bled red and his fangs dropped down. He could hear a shocked gasp leave Gemma’s mouth. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Scott take a hesitant step back, as if the sight of Stiles like this frightened him more than the berserkers. He heard a soft ‘oh no’ fall form Melissa’s lips, and that one hurt the worst. His brother was the only one who didn’t seem the least bit perturbed by the situation. And Kate, well she was just giddy, and if he hadn’t already figured out her plan then that might worry him.

“For someone who used to be a hunter, you really enjoy that animal instinct, don’t you?”

“Being turned into this,” She flashed her glowing green eyes at him. “Confirmed everything I already knew about these things. Blood thirsty, uncontrollable, rage filled animals.”

“I think you just described your human self.” She would have backhanded him for that comment if not for his quick reflexes. He caught both her wrists between his hands as she swung. “If you honestly believed they had no control then you never would have de-aged Derek to get him to teach you control. Everything you were taught to hate about shifters is everything you already had inside of you.”

She struggled uselessly against his grip. He didn’t have to do much of anything but hold on. Either she was weak against an alpha or she wasn’t really trying, because the wolves in his pack always made these things seem so much harder. He expected that he would be the one struggling if it came down to a fight between them, considering she had an infinite amount of experience on him. He wondered if Scott and Derek fought so hard to keep their humanity during these moments, these battles they got into, that they couldn’t use their full strength with their focus split. It would explain why they had their asses kicked during the first few showdowns with the big bad of the week.

“Let’s not do this.” He suggested, letting go of her wrists and shoving her backward.

“Excuse me?” She balked, shooting him an incredulous look.

“This thing where I explain to you why you were the evil one all along and where you tell me you turned me into an alpha on the full moon so I could go on a killing spree.” Another killing spree and, god, was it horrifying to know that he had to put _another_ before the words _killing spree_ in reference to himself. “Let’s drop it down to the basics. This is about Allison. You blame Scott and me for her death. The oni are the ones who actually killed her, while she was protecting her friends. I would tell you to go look for one of them to exact your revenge on but they are all dead.”

“You called the oni.” She reached into her back pocket, pulling out a photograph. It was grainy, taken from a security camera. It showed him, standing at the receptions desk at the hospital, with two of the oni at his back. “They don’t just appear. They have to be called. You called for them.”

“Fun fact number one, a human can’t call them. You have to sacrifice a piece of you to do that. For instance, if a kitsune was going to call for one, they would have to lose one of their tails. Fun fact number two, this is not me. I don’t think so anyway, some of that time is still a blur to me. What do you think, Melissa? Was the hospital massacre before or after I threw myself up?” He took the picture from Kate’s hand to show Scott’s mother, who seemed to falter just looking at the picture. “It’s a simple question. Was this before or after I went from being one to two?”

“After.”

“Good. So, not me.” He turned back toward the jaguar. “I did not call the oni. The one you are looking for is already dead. Scott and Kira killed him. Scott couldn’t kill the woman who was going to sacrifice our parents, or even entertain the idea of taking out the pack that killed our friends, but you could make damn sure he would take care of the thing that killed his precious Allison.”

“That _thing_ was you!”

“That _thing_ was a nogitsune.” She reeled back at the words. A seasoned hunter like her had to know what a nogitsune was. She was afraid of it, and smartly so. “You did your research enough to know that I was having nightmares but you didn’t look deep enough to find out why? Given how strung out and sleep deprived my doppelganger looks in this picture, I could see how you would jump to certain conclusions. Did you think I went off the deep end or on a drug binge and summoned some sword-wielding dudes to help me murder half the town? Come on, even I’m not that fucked up.”

However, he just might be by the time Beacon Hills and Charming stopped screwing with him.

“Can we move this along?” He asked in faux earnestness. “We both can see where this is heading. You want me to do something, but I won’t and I can see that you’re starting to understand that. If I were anyone else in the pack then all this monologuing would be followed by a brawl. You would lose. The hostages would be allowed to leave. Then, Scott would give you an uplifting speech about why you don’t have be on the dark side, not that he will understand that reference, and all your sins can be forgiven, then you get to walk away. Or, we can go with Lydia’s method, which is where we ignore the part where you responsible for several murders, blame it all on Peter Hale, and you go free.”

“Meredith was innocent, Stiles.” Scott reminded him, breaking the no talking rule and disagreeing with Stiles assessment of the other banshee. “She was insane. She didn’t know what she was doing.”

“She was a good actress that played Lydia for a fool.” He waved his best friend off because this was not the time or place for that discussion. “Which method will you choose Kate? Uplifting speech or ignorance?”

“I can think of another method.” Gemma claimed as she struggled against her bonds.

“Taking Gemma and Abel does present us with another option of elimination. The Sons of Anarchy have certain ways of dealing with threats.” Stiles could only smirk at the growing annoyance on Kate’s face. “What’s the matter? You look angry. Is it because your plan went downhill before it even got started?”

“You think my plan has already failed?”

“I think you expected there to be blood flowing by now.” She might very well be on a timetable, he didn’t know. He allowed his eyes to rake over his nephew, then Melissa and Gemma. ”You are treating them much better than you did Scott and Kira. You did not want to hurt them because you want me to do it.”

“You’ve got it all figured out. Congratulations. My plan is crumbling because you know every dastardly deed I want you to commit.” She deadpanned. “I wonder what I could possibly do to get things back on track?”

* * *

 

Jax watched his brother carefully. He was waiting for a cue, a subtle movement that told him when to act. Stiles was playing an angle, a role that Jax only somewhat familiar with.

The woman, though, for all she tried to hide it, had become increasingly agitated the longer Stiles refused to play by her script. She was curious about his brother and more than a little wary. Stiles had set his own rules as he had come in, throwing her off, but if the way she shifted as she put distance between them meant anything, it was that she was done letting him run the show that she set up.

She had turned on her heels, a threatening smile painting her face, and made her way over to his son. His feet were moving before he even registered her claws encasing Abel’s throat. He didn’t make it anywhere near his eldest boy before a monstrous hand came down to and smacked him against the chest, sending him backwards and down onto the floor. Scott latched onto his arm, pulling him up as quickly as he fell.

“Maybe you need the proper motivation to get in the fighting spirit.” Kate threatened as her nails drew blood from his child neck. “You rip out mommy’s intestines or I rip out his jugular.”

Stiles demeanor changed in a heartbeat. Jax watched as his eyes glow red once more, his hands turn into instruments of death, and low growl emit from his brothers throat. Jax knew all of that was either the moons pull or just for show, because he knew that look on his brothers face. It was a completely human emotion underneath the wolf-like features.

It was a deadly calm, backed by a god like rage that Stiles kept buried deep inside of him for moments like this. Jax had seen it last when he had walked in on Stiles shoving Clay up against the chapel doors, telling the older man that he would slit his throat and watch him choke on the blood if he so much as looked at Tara or Gemma with ill intent again. It had been a rare moment when Stiles released his anger immediately after seeing Gemma’s beaten face and Tara’s bashed up hand, and learning that Clay was responsible for both acts of violence.

Jax knew it was not a supernatural force that made Stiles dangerous. It was the threat of harm against his family. For all Stiles bumbled around and flailed about, he had a propensity to be one of the most dangerous people that Jax had ever met. Stiles let others underestimate him. He encouraged it and he drew strength from it. He used it to make people believe he was nothing to be afraid of. It helped him take control of a situation. Scott didn’t seem to understand that, he didn’t get it. Jax understood, though, and despite how worried he was for his son’s safety, if there was one person, other than himself, that he trusted without a doubt to keep his son safe, it was Stiles.

* * *

 

He was on her quicker than he ever thought possible. He had one hand wrapped around her throat before she could blink. His other grabbed her wrist between his fingers, he let out a vicious snarl as he squeezed until he felt bone crunch, causing her hand to go limp and her claws to unwillingly retract from his nephews jugular. He pulled her closer to him, away from the boy, before he spoke.

“Abel, turn around, close your eyes and cover your ears.” He waited for the telltale sound of clinking chains signaling the child was complying with his request, before he moved again.

He used his grip on Kate’s neck to drag her toward the middle of the room, away from anyone who could be caught in the crossfire. She took a swing at him, several in fact, landed a few, but he was past feeling physical pain at this point. It was more than the full moon, an alpha’s anger, and adrenaline fueling him now. The smell of his nephew’s blood in the air, of his pain and his fear, pushed Stiles to a new level of madness he had never reached before.

“I always thought we should have let Peter take his time with you that night at the Hale house. We should have let him take a torch to you. Set you on fire and put it out over and over until you were charred black like his family.” He shoved her away and made a show at bring out each of his claws one at a time as she got her bearings. “It’s what I would do, if I had the time. Sadly, I don't think we do. You won’t get to suffer like the Hales did, and I am not going to rip every appendage from your body, for laying hands on my nephew, like I want to. We’ll just have to settle for Allison.”

She made a run at him, predictably, at the name, because that is what the bad guys did in these scenarios. He waited, bided his time, ignoring Scott’s shout for his attention. Every sound faded away to a calm silence when he rammed his claws into Kate’s stomach, not stopping until his entire hand was buried inside of her and he could feel her blood sliding down his wrist.

“This is just a taste of what Allison felt when the oni ran her through with a sword.” He hissed into her face. “Of course, she was human and they pulled it out rather quickly. Her body didn’t try to continuously heal itself around the blade. Not like yours is doing around my fingers.”

“Stiles, stop this! This isn’t you! _We_ don’t do that!” Scott pleaded with him from behind the berserkers to make him stop. “This is not you.”

“Scott, when it was you with a sword shoved into your gut and my fingers around that handle, that wasn’t me.” He took a special kind of pleasure in the pained noises Kate made as he twisted his hand inside of her.

“I’m going to rip – “ Kate grunted between ragged breaths.

“My throat out with your teeth? That’s Derek’s line. It’s copyrighted. No stealing. You have taken enough from him. You don’t get his go-to threat as well. Plus, aren’t I the one that supposed to be ripping out throats and killing people?” He asked while pulling his claws ever so slowly out of her, watching her drop to the ground with a thud. “Isn’t that why I’m here? It is why you turned me into an alpha, right? Why you kidnapped them? Melissa to destroy Scott. Abel to destroy me. Gemma because… I don’t know, crime of opportunity?”

“She reeks of you.” Kate muttered, holding the gaping wound on her stomach. Injuries given by an alpha took longer to heal, so that would bother her for longer than she would like.

“Jax’s fault then. Nice going, bro.” He shook his head in disapproval. “I always said smacking Gem and I together would end with one of us in the nuthouse or dead.”

He trudged toward the hostages while Kate’s skin attempted to knit itself back together. The two women struggled into standing positions at his approach, not easy to do given how they were tied up. They held their heads up high, not showing any of the anxiety they might have had earlier.

“How did you want this to go Kate? The moon goes up and sends the new wolf into a bloodthirsty rage and bodies start dropping? Let’s say that’s how it went.” He proposed. “Abel would go first. It would be quick and as painless as possible. A snapped neck maybe. It doesn’t matter how much of an animal I was, I could never allow his suffering. Melissa would be next.”

He stopped in front of Scott’s mother. He brought his hand up, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. He could hear a very human-like whine emit from Scott, but he ignored it. He kept his focus on Melissa. He couldn’t help but think about how awful this must be for her to see him this way. This is not the first time he’s given her a feral smile or made her look into his wild eyes. They have been here before. He looks at her though, he really looks, and he can see that she is not scared at all. Not of him. It was all an act. She was playing it up, the same way he was.

“It would be quick for her too. I can’t stand to see her hurt. It breaks my heart.”

He walked behind her, used his claws to cut at the thick ropes that kept her bound. He kept her wrists in his hands for a moment, applied a small amount of pressure, to let her know to keep them there for now, before he moved to Gemma’s side.

“Her I would save for last. She’s the one I would take my time with. By the time I was done with her she would be begging me for death.” He ran a clawed finger against her throat. He almost enjoyed the acrid scent of fear that wafted off her, the barely noticeable tremors coursing through her body. He lent closer to her, murmuring into her ear. “It’s a switch from yesterday, huh? You know I said I wouldn’t let Jax kill you. I never said I wouldn’t do it myself.”

He cut her loose while she shuddered at the implication of what he had said. He gave her a push and Melissa a nod that signaled them to go to their respective children for safety. To his surprise, the berserkers let them pass without a problem. He spared a glance at Kate, who looked infuriated, while he crouched down in front of his nephew, breaking the cuff from around his ankle easily.

He nudged Abel in Jax’s direction when he stood, a silent plea for the boy to go. Instead, Abel latched onto one of his clawed hands, looking up at Stiles with big eyes full of trust. Fuck, despite what was going on the boy still trusted him to keep him safe. He rubbed his thumb across the top of his nephew’s hand, offering him an assurance that he would do whatever it took to make sure he wasn’t hurt again.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” The jaguar barked as she finally regained her footing and stood up from the floor. “Are you under the assumption that we are done?”

“Yes. The game is over, Kate. You lost.” She bared her teeth at him. “There isn’t going to be some big brawl or an epic showdown. It’s not my style. If you wanted that, you should have kept after Scott or Derek. They have a flare for the dramatics. All back flips and unnecessary shows of dominance. I’m not much of a fighter myself.”

“So, you think you can just walk out, is that it?” He was very familiar with the _are you fucking stupid_ expression on her face. Many people had looked at him that way before. “You didn’t forget about my little friends, did you? Even if you got past me, you would never get past them.”

“I only heard two when I came in, but six of them showed up when I heard the pack and SAMCRO outside.” Two of the six were inside with them. “I only hear one stomping around out there now. There could be more, but we’re equipped to deal with it.”

“Your friends figured out how to kill my berserkers. You got the boy and your mommies back. I guess you have won. And you think that means you’ve beaten me.” She laughed at him behind her fangs. “If that’s what you think then you are free to go.”

“You would let us go?” She was too at ease for that to be true.

“Sure. You can go. It will give me time to make more berserkers. Six of them just can’t get the job done so maybe an entire army would do.” She would let them leave so she could build an army, which was slightly terrifying, even Stiles could admit that. “Just remember that the next time I come through town it will not be hostages that I take. Hearts, lungs, eyeballs, tongues, maybe even a kidney, but not hostages. Allison deserves justice and I will take it from you and Scotty-boy with the ones that mean most to you and I know exactly who they are.”

He could see the truth of what she was saying behind the neon green of her eyes. He could hear it in her heartbeat. She wouldn’t stop. The violence would only escalate until she had her vengeance. This didn’t end for her or them until he and Scott were dead or she was.

He could offer up his own life, and hope she would accept it as enough payment to fulfill the debt she thought they owed to her family. It wouldn’t be. Scott would offer himself beside Stiles or in trade. He had no doubt that she would give them slow deaths.

“Stiles, let’s just go.” Scott urged.

He could do that. Do it Scott’s way, the packs way. He could call a ceasefire. He could let Scott give Kate a stern talking to, telling her that she did not have to do this, to be this way, that Allison wouldn’t want that for her. All could be forgiven if she just stopped killing people. They could walk out, like she said they could. They could take their families and go.

He could do this SAMCRO’s way. He could eliminate the threat. He could take care of it now and be done with it. He would never have to worry about Kate Argent ever again.

They could overpower her as a group. If by chance she didn’t make a break for it during their tussle with the remaining berserkers then they could incapacitate her, drive her back to Beacon Hills, and toss her in a cell beside Peter at Eichen House. She would escape though, if not in the chaos of the fight then during transport, and she would kill any poor bastard who tried to stop her.

He had to look at each option from both sides. He couldn’t make a half-ass choice and just hope for the best. Making a mistake could cost him everyone he held dear.

When the Sons eliminated an enemy there was always twice as much carnage that followed. The allies of their enemies would take revenge on them. It would be war, like the one they were already in, but Kate was a pariah in her former hunter circles. The Calaveras wanted her dead, as did her own brother. There was no one that would go storming into Beacon Hills to avenge her. She had no allies outside of the berserkers. No one would care if she met her end here and now.

In Beacon Hills, they let the monsters go. Scott had a moral code that he stuck to no matter what. They were developing a reputation for being the ones to doll out slaps on the wrists and lectures before the killers were sent on their merry way back out of town. They didn’t check in on them once they were gone and make sure they stayed on the straight and narrow, to make sure they weren’t continuing their evil schemes somewhere else. It didn’t matter how many deaths they were responsible for, when they were outside the city limits they were no longer McCall packs problem.

“What’s it going to be, handsome?”

“Compromise.”

“Interesting concept.” She mused. “Sadly, I don’t compromise. This is not a negotiation.”

“Compromise.” He repeated. “You let them go and I will stay.”

“Like hell.” Melissa interjected.

“We are not leaving you here, Stiles.” There was a heavy note of authority in Jax’s voice, but Stiles had never answered to his brother’s authority before and he was not going to start now.

“You can do what you want to me.” He said drowning out the protests. “My debt with you will be settled. You will leave my family alone.”

“This doesn’t settle my score with Scott.” Kate pointed out.

“He had nothing to do with Allison’s death. He tried to stop it. Her blood is on my hands.” He may not have pushed the sword into her but he still felt the guilt on his conscience.

“He brought her into that world and put her in harm’s way.”

“You introduced her to that world.” He snapped before realizing his mistake. She planned to alleviate her own guilt, over showing Allison what werewolves were, by putting it on Scott. “He should have stayed away from her. We all told him that, but he didn’t listen. You want to kill him, you can do it another day.”

“No, Stiles!” Scott yelled. “If you are staying then so am I.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Only me.”

“Why not let him stay too?” Kate asked inquisitively. “That way I get exactly what I want.”

“Me only or we walk, like you said we could, and we all do this another day.” He wasn’t going to let Scott stay behind. “If we leave, then Deaton is going to fix what you did to us. Scott will be the alpha again. If you let me, only me, stay, and kill me tonight, then you become the alpha.”

“That is a very enticing option. It’s too bad that I’ve never heard of an alpha were-jaguar.”

“All that power has to go somewhere. Even if you don’t become one, you will still have the power of one.” She had to take that deal. He didn’t have anything else to offer her.

“Okay. They can go.”

The echo of _no’s_ that rang out from Scott, Melissa, and Jax was almost deafening. Stiles ignored them in favor of crouching down beside his nephew and running a soft hand through his hair, trying to reassure him, because there were tears in the boy’s eyes now.

“I need you to do me a favor, okay?”

“Okay.”

“When you get outside, I want you to give my dad the biggest hug.” His hands shook as he wiped a single tear from the boy’s cheek. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.”

“You have to go to your dad and grandma now, okay?”

“’Kay.”

“Love you, buddy.” It was the only thing he could think to say that meant anything.

“Love you too, Uncle.”

He watched his nephew stumble over until he reached his father. Jax swept him up in his arms, holding him like a lifeline. Stiles stood back to his full height, glancing at each of them. He loved them all, they were all his family in his own way. His eyes found Gemma, the one who hadn’t kicked up a fit about his staying behind. She gave him a barely noticeable nod and he knew that she had it all figured out.

“Time to go, ladies and gentlemen. My friends here will escort you out and ensure that you make it safely to your vehicles.” The sarcasm in Kate’s voice was not lost on Stiles.

It didn’t matter how much they dragged their feet or protested against it, the berserkers dragged them out the door without much of a struggle. The door slammed shut behind them, Stiles didn’t even get a chance to see his dad one last time before it was just he and Kate again.

“So, what kind of voodoo did Deaton work to help you have this much control on your first moon?” She asked curiously.

“No voodoo. It’s just me.”

“That’s impossible.” She scoffed in disbelief.

“I was a thousand year old evil fox spirit. Do you have any idea how much power something can accumulate in that kind of time? How much control it takes to wield it? This,” He flexed his claws in and out. “This is nothing compared to what I was. Shifters are weak. The power of an alpha can’t even scratch the itch the nogitsune left behind.”

“Oh, you are jonesing for some real power, aren’t you? You had that thing in your for months, you got used to the power, you liked it. Did you go through withdrawals like a junkie?” She didn’t fail to catch the twitch in his eye if her grin meant anything. “You did. How long would you be alpha, I wonder, before you started killing off your pack mates like Deucalion did? He did it because he wanted their power. You would do it because you _need_ it.”

“I won’t be an alpha much longer. You are going to kill me, at least that’s what you keep saying.”

“There are so many ways that I wanted this to go. So many ways I’ve thought about killing you and Scott.” She strode over to him slowly, rubbing her body against him in a way that made him feel physically sick. “There are so many creative things I want to do with your dismantled body. I want to strip the skin from your body and nail it to a tree as a warning for the people who try to hurt my family. I’ll send your bones to Chris, so he knows that his daughter can be at peace now with you dead. I’m going to send your heart to your father. Do you think he would like that?”

“I think that you’re wasting time. If my friends hear my heart or yours still beating in here by the time they are through with your berserkers, they’ll come for you.” He knew they wouldn’t just leave him here. “You picked the wrong location for this if you wanted to make if slow. If you had picked a place in the city you could have put me in a car and they wouldn’t have noticed over all the other sounds.”

“I suppose your right.” She didn’t seem to disappointed by it. “I don’t need you to be alive when I desecrate your body. We should get right down to it”

She didn’t move behind him, like she had Abel, when she wrapped her fingers around his throat. He did not jerk or flail away at the feel of claws on his neck. He stood as still as he could. He kept his breathing even. He was not going to show her fear that she didn’t deserve.

“I really wanted that little boy’s corpse to be the last thing you ever saw.” His didn’t react to her words. He kept his unfaltering gaze locked with hers. He let the luminescent alpha red counter her glowing green as her claws punctured the skin of his throat.

In one movement, she could dig in and tear out his jugular. She had the upper hand, and despite the threat of the pack coming in, she still wanted it to last and that is where she made a mistake. She was getting off on drawing this out.

She was paying too much attention to his face and not enough to what his hands were doing. She never saw him reach back and fondle the cold metal that rested in his waistband, feeling the weight of it in his hands. She focused too much on his heartbeat, waiting to hear that spike of fear, that she didn’t hear him cock the hammer of the gun or hear the rustling of fabric as the weapon brushed over his jeans when he brought the weapon to his side. She caught on to something, though, because the smirk fell from her face in the time that it took for him to put the barrel to the bottom of her chin and pull the trigger.

Her blood splattered on to his face and her claws tore down his neck as gravity dropped her body to the floor.

* * *

 

By the time the last berserker went down, Jax felt like he had been hit by a bus. He had only helped take out three of the six, he couldn’t imagine how his guys or the pack were feeling. When he looked around, he saw wolves in various stages of healing. The humans were all a little worse for wear with bruises, cuts, and torn clothing, but they were on their feet.

He looked to the line of trees to his left, where Gemma and Melissa had taken Abel to keep him out of the fight. They were walking out now, coming to join the rest of them. His son pulled away from the women as they got closer, taking off in a run before throwing himself at John. The older man stumbled and looked a bit perplexed but curled his arms around the boy anyway, lifting him up and resting him on his hip as he regained his balance.

“It’s good to see you too, kiddo.” John chuckled. Jax watched him take in the people surrounding him, and his heart clenched in his chest as he saw confusion line his face. “Where’s Stiles?”

“Sheriff, um…” Scott bowed his head, staring at his feet as he spoke. “He’s um…”

“Where is my son?” The confusion was replaced by anger and fear as John demanded an answer. “Where is Stiles?”

“He’s in the warehouse.” It was the blonde girl who answered, Malia, if Jax remembered her name correctly. “I can hear his heartbeat. It’s steady. He’s not afraid.”

“He’s in there with her?”

He didn’t accuse them, probably because he knew Stiles would be a self-sacrificing bastard. Instead, he all but dropped Abel into Jax’s arms and started toward the warehouse door, the pack on his heels. They didn’t make it more than a few feet before a gunshot froze them all in their tracks.

Stiles walked out less than a minute later. His throat was painted red, an already closing gash running down it. There was blood coating the side of his face. He paused before he reached them. His eyes roving all of them, before landing on Scott. He hunched his shoulders and dropped his gaze to the ground, as if he was waiting to be punished for being a bad dog.

* * *

 

The first thing he wanted to do when he came through the door was hug his dad. He wanted to be wrapped in the warmth of the other man’s arms and bask in the feeling of being safe. He wanted to apologize to Melissa and Gemma for having to see him the way they did. He wanted to beg his brother for forgiveness, tell him that he never meant to get their family involved in this.

He couldn’t do any of that yet, because he knew what came next. Scott was the one member of the pack who wouldn’t let what he did go. It didn’t matter who Kate was or what she did, in Scotts mind no one deserved to be killed. He knew it was fear that drove Scott’s disapproval. He was afraid that Stiles would become a monster again, or that the pack would begin to think it was okay to kill under certain circumstances. So, Stiles would stand there and take Scott’s lecture, be made an example of what not to do for members of the pack who hadn’t learned yet.

“You killed her.” The _true_ alpha of the pack stated.

“Yes.”

There was a palpable silence that followed his answer. It would have made him nervous if he hadn’t felt so numb. He felt hollowed out but heavy, like his body was made of rubber. His father must have sensed it, because he broke out of whatever trance he had been frozen in since he caught sight of Stiles covered in blood, and was at his side, wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him on his feet and pulling the gun, still locked firmly in Stiles grip, out of his hands.

“Why?” Scott asked after a moment.

“That’s what you do when there’s a threat.” It was such a Sons thing to say but it was the truth Scott wanted. “I could have let her tear out my throat if her life meant that much to you.”

It was kill or be killed. He came out alive and he wasn’t going to apologize for it.

“It looks like she nearly did rip out your throat.” Malia looked far too curious as she shuffled toward him. Sticking her face right up to his neck. “It’s already healed.”

“Yeah, she didn’t get a chance to get them in very deep.” If she had, they both would both be dead right now. “Malia, you know I love you, but can you just back up a little bit?”

“Yeah, sorry.” She took a place next to him instead, still close, but no longer right against him.

“So, um…” Chibs grabbed their attention. “Is there some kind of protocol for dealing with these sort of creatures?”

“You salt and burn the bones like on that show?” Tig asked, looking at the piles of dead berserkers.

“We don’t have a protocol for this. We don’t kill.” Stiles locked eyes with Scott, challenging the others accusing tone.

“You guys don’t have to worry about it. It was a pack problem. The pack will take care of it.” The club had been involved enough. “We’ve gotten pretty good at burying our own, might as well learn to bury the bad guys as well.”

“We buried the bad ones before.” Scott argued. “Peter.”

“Derek buried him under his house.” They didn’t stick around to help out. “And he came back to life, so that doesn’t count.”

“We got better places than under a house for you guys to bury them.” Tig patted Scott on the back.

“Tig, why don’t you and Happy help them out so they can get it done quickly and get home.” Jax suggested. “It’s been a long day and I’m sure everyone is tired. I saw some shovels in the warehouse.”

“Yeah, okay.” Tig gave his president a salute before taking off into the warehouse.

“Stiles,” Happy appeared in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder, and looking deeply into his eyes in a way that made him incredibly uncomfortable. “I’m proud of you.”

“Don’t,” He couldn’t hold back the flinch that came with hearing those words. “Don’t ever say that to me in this context again. Do you understand?”

“Go help Tig, Hap.” Jax ordered the other man.

“Sure, boss.”

Stiles leaned toward his father, letting the other man take some of his weight, as he watched Happy jog toward the doorway. He could see Kate’s body, lying lifeless on the ground, from where he was standing. He wasn’t proud of what he had done, not the way Happy had been of him, but he was glad she was dead. He was glad she would never get another chance to hurt his family.

“Stiles?” His dad’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Yeah, dad?” He averted his eyes from the corpse to look at the man.

“You want to come back to Beacon Hills for the night? The pack has some things they have to tell you.” The sounded ominous.

“The pack can say what they need to say here.” He replied before it clicked that maybe his father didn’t want everyone listening in to what the pack had to say. “Oh, uh, Jax’s, there’s a first aid kit in my jeep. You _all_ should take Abel down there, get him patched up. We don’t want those cuts to get infected.”

“Sure.” Jax nodded. “Meet us down there when you’re done with your secret meeting.”

“I’ll do that.” Yeah, his brother could take a hint.

He waited until he could hear someone open the creaky driver side door of his jeep before turning to the pack. Their scents were overwhelming compared to that of the wilderness. Nervousness and guilt were the smells currently clogging his sinuses.

“Alright.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he approached. “I’m listening.”

“You didn’t have to kill Kate.” Tooth-rottingly moral Scott would be the one to state an obvious fact, making Stiles father smack a palm to his forehead. Apparently, that’s not what Scott was supposed to be telling him.

“She’s dead. I killed her. We’ve been over this and now we’re moving on.” He wasn’t going to explain himself to Scott again. “Does what you have to tell me have something to do with the secret that you and Derek both said you weren’t keeping?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to wager that it was Kate being back in town. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“I know I’ve been in and out of town for a little while now, but I thought Kate Argent returning to Beacon Hills would at least warrant a phone call or a text message to keep me in the loop. You could have sent a damn carrier pigeon.”

“You had things to deal with and we didn’t want to bother you.” Liam offered up a weak excuse when Scott faltered.

“Yes, because keeping me in the dark about a psychopath that wanted to kill us all was a bright idea.” He didn’t want to take his frustration out on Liam, he knew the kid was only following orders. “Not telling me about some rogue creature running around town, that you all are more than capable of handling on your own, is one thing. Failing to alert me about someone who has repeatedly attacked the pack is you putting me and my family in unnecessary danger.”

“Stiles, we had no reason to believe she would come for you or to Charming.” Lydia argued.

“I could have prepared either way. Instead, I had to find out by hearing my nephews frightened voice on the telephone. Then, I had to watch as she sunk her claws into a five year old that I am responsible for.” That was the image he wouldn’t be able to shake for a very long time. She had barely broken the skin on Abel’s neck, nicked him enough to make him bleed, to let Stiles know exactly what she would do to him.

“I’m sorry that Abel got hurt.” Scott looked down in guilt.

“It’s not your fucking fault, Scott.” He wasn’t going to blame Scott or the pack for something that Kate had done. “You should have kept me informed. I deserved a god damn heads-up.”

“We’ll keep you informed from now on. I promise.”

“Is that everything or is there something else you’re keeping from me?”

“Juice is the one who tracked Kate, after they had him hack into some databases for them.” His father informed him when the others stayed silent.

“It was only credit card records, bank transactions, and some cameras at the border.” Lydia said flippantly. “Some police databases as well, for reports of stolen vehicles.”

“Oh, is that all?” He snapped at her. “Do you have any idea how much trouble he could have gotten into if he had been caught?”

“Yeah, that’s why we asked him to do it instead of Lydia’s friend Danny.” Whatever love Stiles had for Liam was gone with at statement.

“That’s not what happened.” Derek protested, reaching over and smacking Liam on the back of the head. “We asked him for help and he agreed.”

“You shouldn’t have asked him at all.” He didn’t take Juice to Beacon Hills just for him to get into more trouble. “With his record he would have gone to jail for a very long time if he had been caught.”

“He is in jail, Stiles.” Scott reminded him.

“Yeah, he is, for his own crimes. He’s in jail for crimes he committed out of his own volition.” It wasn’t a total lie, he was doing what he had to, to get back on the clubs good graces, but they didn’t need to know that.

“Well he didn’t get caught, so what’s the big deal?” The banshee questioned.

“I brought him to you all because he needed to be safe. You decided to exploit that need to get him to do your bidding.”

“We asked him for help and he said okay. We didn’t make him do anything.”

“Of course he said okay. He was under your protection. He would have felt the need to do whatever you asked him regardless of what it was.” It’s what life in SAMCRO taught him. If someone scratched your back, you had better be ready to scratch theirs in return. “You could have asked him to suck your dick and he would have dropped to his knees and begged for it if he thought he was repaying a debt he owed you.”

“Alright, that’s enough!” His dad’s voice roared over theirs, effectively shutting them up. “Everyone needs to calm down.”

“We are calm.” Lydia claimed.

“Anything else that’s being kept from me?” If there was anything else they better tell him now, he might not be so willing to listen later. “Don’t tease me and say no when there really is more. When I have my mental breakdown over everything that happened tonight I would like to have all the information first, and save myself from having another breakdown in the future.”

“There’s something else but I haven’t had the chance to get what it is out of Scott or Derek yet.” His father admitted, earning a few wide-eyed looks from the men in question. “I’ll tell you when I know.”

“I’ll put a hold on my breakdown then, shall I?” He ran a hand through his unruly hair.

“It’s nothing bad.” Scott insisted. “I promise.”

“I don’t care. You guys just need to bury the berserkers and Kate.” He kicked at one of the dead monsters. “And then get the hell back to Beacon Hills where you belong.”

“You sound so much like Jax when you talk like that.” Tig chortled as he and Happy walked out of the warehouse.

“At least we know where Juice will hide if he makes it out of prison and decides to betray us again.” That might be the most Stiles had ever heard Happy speak and it pissed him off.

“Mind your business, Hap.” Of fucking course, they would have been listening in. That was fucking fantastic. “And it’s not _if_ he gets out of prison, it’s _when_.”

“Yeah, we know, kid.” Tig cut in before Happy could give a retort. “You guys gonna help out or make us do the dirty work?”

“They will help. Except Scott, I’m sure his asthma came back when he became human. All the dirt flying around will mess with his breathing.” He wasn’t pleased with Scott right now but he didn’t want him to get sick.

“I’ve never buried anyone before.” Kira admitted.

“Well, it’s a good day to learn.” Tig quipped.

“Don’t be a creep, Tiggy.” Stiles ordered and then remembered who else was helping out. “That goes double for you, Happy.”

The pack members that had been tasked to help, the supernaturally inclined and Braeden, all followed Happy and Tigs lead through the woods. They would dig the holes first and then come back for the bodies. It left Stiles alone with his father, Lydia, Scott, and Melissa.

“I’m gonna head down,” He jerked his thumb off in the opposite direction. “They’re probably waiting on me.”

“You have to come back to Beacon Hills with us so we can talk to Deaton.” Yeah, that was not going to happen no matter what argument Scott had waiting for him.

“No. I’m not going to sit in the vets office and listen to Deaton spout off riddles.” He had enough of those when he was sharing his head with the nogitsune. “When he decides to stop giving you the runaround and hands over the potion that he’s probably had waiting on ice, then call me and I’ll come up.”

“I’ll walk you down to the jeep.” It was dad speak for _I want to talk to you privately._

“Okay.”

He thought he could get away with a wave in goodbye to Melissa, but she wasn’t having it. She grabbed him and pulled him into a fierce hug. Smoothing her hand down the back of his hair and rubbing his back. He tensed in shock before relaxing into it.

“I’m sorry.” His whispered into her ear. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that again.”

“It wasn’t the same. I knew it was you and I knew you were never going to hurt us or let her hurt us.” She kissed his cheek. “You’re good, Stiles. You think you’re not but you are. You have to remember that.”

“I’ll try.” He gave her a peck on the cheek before pulling away.

It was a slow walk trying to navigate down the path of sticks, rocks, and dirt. Stiles dreaded these kind of silences with his dad. He knew the man wanted to say something, but was afraid to. He knew he had destroyed an image his father had of him today by killing Kate and that his father would have a certain opinion on it, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear it.

“She was right, you know?” Stiles raised his brows in question. “Melissa. She was right. You’re good. You are a good man.”

“Is the sheriff supposed to say that to a murderer?”

“You are not a murderer. You killed someone, yes, but it was in self-defense. I’m saying that as the sheriff and your father.” His dad replied. “I know you did not make that decision lightly, Stiles. I know how heavy this is going to sit with you.”

“So, you don’t hate me?” He mumbled quietly.

“You are an idiot if you think I could ever hate you. I love you, Son.”

“I love you too.”

* * *

 

Abel had demanded to ride with Stiles on the way to the cabin. Jax had relented after the boy had kicked up a fit and they realized that the jeep, even without a booster seat, was far safer than riding on Jax’s bike. Gemma had decided to go with them, rather than riding bitch with Jax or Chibs as well. Abel had also insisted on sitting in the front seat between them and had fallen asleep quickly once they were on the road.

Stiles kept stealing glances at Gemma as they drove. She looked about as exhausted as Abel after their ordeal. She had her head rested against the window and continuously rubbed at a spot on her left shoulder.

“Are you hurt?” He hadn’t thought to ask before, she and Melissa had looked fine outside of a few minor scrapes and being covered in dirt.

“I bumped my shoulder when that thing pulled me out of Nero’s car last night.” The berserkers had probably ripped her out of her seat before she even realized the car had crashed. “Some ice and aspirin and it’ll be fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“I’m sorry about all of this. I’m sorry that you and Abel got caught up in it. I never meant for any of this to happen.” It was why he had doubled his efforts to keep his lives separated after the supernatural became his new normal. He wanted the pack safe from club retaliation and his family in Charming safe from the packs adversaries. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart.” She assured him.

“The packs beef, my enemy. That’s on me.” If he hadn’t come to Charming then Kate never would have targeted Gemma or Abel. “I’m sorry.”

“You saved us. You did what you had to do to protect what was yours.” He could have lived without hearing the pride in her voice. “Don’t ever apologize for that.”

“Is this the part where you go on a long spiel about how this incident proves that I should join the club?” She quirked the side of her mouth up in a half smile. “Can you not, please? Anytime I do something remotely immoral you use it as a talking point to get me on Team Anarchy.”

“Baby, you are already as deep into SAMCRO as you can get, top rocker and all. The only things you’re missing is the patch.” She let out a sigh when he only responded with a shake of his head. “If you can give me a honest to god reason why you have such a refusal to even entertain the idea of joining the club, that has nothing to do with which side of the law you would be on or disappointing your daddy, then I will stop yapping at you about it. Do you even have a reason?”

“I do. Maybe I’ll tell you one day.”

They spent the rest of the car ride in total silence, save for Abel’s soft snores. Stiles watched the road pass them by, feeling more and more uneasy the closer they got to their destination. By the time they had reached the turn off, Jax and Chibs had zoomed past them and Stiles could only see their taillights in the darkness.

As they pulled up to the cabin Stiles took note of a hole in the ground to the right side of the property, shovels lying close beside it. It was as if they had expected to bring back bodies when they had left. When they hopped out of the jeep, Stiles cradling his sleeping nephew in his arms, he saw that they weren’t expecting a body, they had one.

“Oh god.” Gemma gasped, freezing in pace.

Bobby was lying on the picnic table. The damage done to him was clearly visible despite the darkness. Stiles felt his heart stop in his chest, because he forgot. With everything else going on he had forgotten that Marks had Bobby. He couldn’t help but wonder if Jax had missed his meeting to get him back, because they were busy dealing with Kate.

“I meant to say something,” Jax’s voice pulled his eyes up from Bobby’s corpse. “I didn’t want you guys to come and just see this.”

“What happened?” He choked out, pulling Abel impossibly tighter against him.

“Everyone inside. We’ll put Abel to bed and I’ll explain.”

Chibs chose to stay behind with Bobby as the rest of them made their way into the cabin. Stiles obediently handed Abel off to Wendy at Jax’s silent urging. She took in the sight of him, still covered in blood, and settled for giving him a one armed hug. He kept his gaze locked on the floor as he sat down in a free chair across from the one Jax had dropped into, leaving Gemma to join Nero on the couch.

“We tried to negotiate with Marks. He didn’t accept that. The meet was a set-up. Bobby tried to warn me when I got there, but they had broken his jaw. I couldn’t – I couldn’t understand what he was trying to say.” There was nothing but raw emotion in Jax's voice. It wasn’t simple pain mixed into grief. It was pure agony. “Marks killed Bobby as soon as I had him in my arms.”

“I’m so sorry, Jax.” His own voice shook as he offered useless words.

“Me too.” The older man offered him a nod before standing. “I have something to take care of. I’ll be back in a few hours. You all should say your goodbyes to Bobby. They’re going to bury him as soon as Tig and Happy get back.”

No one had to ask what Jax was going to take care of as the man walked out the door. It could only be Marks. The club wasn’t going to let a brother’s murder go unpunished.

“I’m gonna go see Bobby.” Gemma announced quietly, standing from the sofa.

“You want me to come with you?” Nero questioned.

“No, sweetheart, I need to be by myself.”

Stiles let himself lean back, his head drop against the back of chair, feeling exhausted. He watched Gemma take her leave from the room and Chibs come in soon after, taking the chair Jax had vacated.

“Where the hell were you?” He blurted out, his head lolling to the side to eye Nero with suspicion. “Your woman’s been kidnapped and you stay behind rather than head off on a white horse?”

“Jax wouldn’t let me come and I didn’t have a working car to follow on my own.” The older man shrugged his shoulders. “Jax didn’t want to put more people in danger than necessary, especially when he didn’t know what he was walking into.”

“Your pack didn’t have a problem bringing what looked like everyone on their roster.” Chibs pointed out, causing Stiles to snort.

“No, they did not.” He didn’t have a clue as to why they had brought Lydia or Parrish along. Parrish didn’t know how to access his power and Lydia’s gift was to scream. Both were pretty much useless in a fighting scenario without proper weaponry.

“I take it that’s not the way you usually do things?”

“There’s usually more bloodshed.” He replied looking down at the blood covering him. He really needed to shower and get a change of clothes.

“Oh there was bloodshed.” Chibs told him. “Out there with the berserkers there was bloodshed. Your friends can just heal quicker so not as much spills.”

“Irritating isn’t it?” After a big fight they were able to walk it off like it never happened. “How did Liam do? His control stick or did he lose his cool?”

“The little one?” Stiles nodded. “He was fine from what I could see. Control a problem for him?”

“It’s a problem for all new wolves.”

“It doesn’t seem to be a problem for you.”

“I have an awesome anchor.” He lied. Well, partially lied. He did need an anchor that morning when he first shifted.

“What is it?” Nero asked curiously. “Your anchor?”

“Opie.” He looked at Chibs as he said it, gauging his reaction.

“Good choice.” The Scot praised.

“I thought so.” He replied before his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled the device out, reading over the text message before sighing in relief. “I won’t need an anchor much longer. My cure awaits at the veterinarians office.”

“A vet?”

“He’s also a druid-emissary thing.”

“The drive from the warehouse was barely an hour. The couldn’t have buried the bodies and made it back to Beacon Hills in that time.” Chibs said.

“They're on their way there now. Deaton called Scott and told him he had finished the potion and to get to the office immediately, so off I go.” He said as he stood.

“You might want to put on a jacket to cover up all that blood and get a baby wipe from the diaper bag to get it all off your face.” Nero suggested. “You don’t want to get pulled over because a state trooper thinks you’ve murdered someone.”

“I’ve got a towel in the jeep.” He said grabbing what looked like one of Jax’s hoodies and pulling it on. “I’ll be back in a bit. Make sure to have Abel eat something when he wakes up.”

“Yes, dad.” Chibs joked.

“Fuck off.”

It felt like he was leaving just as he arrived when he walked out the door. His eyes automatically found Bobby’s body as he stepped out into the night. Gemma was sitting on the bench of the table, hands clasped in prayer. He let his feet take him to her without really thinking and sank down beside her, careful not to startle her.

He didn’t join in her prayer, he wasn’t really sure how to pray. He waited until she lowered her hands, then reached over and covered the closest one with his, giving it a gentle squeeze. He tried to offer her the barest bit of comfort he could.

This was the part of Stiles and Gemma’s relationship that no one really understood, but they accepted rather than question it. They were open about their dislike of each other, but not the fact that they cared for one another. Most people only saw the way they continuously sniped at each other. They never saw the other side of things, where they offered one another a shoulder to lean on. It was a complicated relationship and even they didn’t understand it sometimes.

Over eighteen years ago, Gemma had given Stiles away. Yesterday, she held a gun to his head and threatened to pull the trigger. Ten years ago, Stiles had learned that Gemma was a liar and an abandoner. Today, he had told her that he could be the one to kill her for Tara’s death. Now, they were sitting together, a dead friend in front of them, like none of it had happened. Their problems with one another were temporarily pushed aside if one of them truly needed the other.

“I’m so sorry, Bobby.” She whimpered to the man. “I had no idea. I couldn’t see all this. Oh, please forgive me.”

He didn’t know what to do as he saw tears flow down her cheek. He thought he should stay with her or call for Nero, but he did neither. Bobby’s death was result of the lie she and Juice had come up with to cover up Tara’s murder. She deserved to carry the guilt that came with his death. He offered her one last piece of comfort, a kiss to her hair, before removing himself from the bench.

He leaned over Bobby, placing his forehead against the older man’s for a moment, whispering his own apologies. He knew the truth too. He could have put a stop to it as soon as Juice had told him, but he didn’t and Bobby had paid the price. It was something he, Gemma, and Juice would have to live with for however long they had left.

He started off toward his jeep with a heaviness in his heart. He had nearly made it to the vehicle when a small voice yelled out his name from behind him.

“Uncle Stiles!” Abel screeched as he ran, his little legs moving quickly, before launching himself into Stiles arms the second he turned around.

“Abel!” Wendy admonished as she caught up with the boy at Stiles side. “You don’t just run off, you know that.”

“Uncle left me.” He replied petulantly, sending a glare his way. “You left me.”

“You were asleep, buddy.” He had no idea where the boys new found attachment to his hip came from. “I’ll only be gone for a few hours.”

“I come with you.”

“You need to sleep and eat.”

“You buy me food and I’ll sleep in the car and when we get back.” He stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. “Wanna go with you.”

“Abel – “

‘Don’t leave me.” And there was the puppy dog eyes, complete with sniffles to warn of oncoming tears. God damn it. “Don’t leave me again.”

“I need the Volvo keys.” He grumbled at Wendy, accepting his fate. “And a blanket for when he falls asleep.”

“Sucker.”

* * *

 

He was thankful Abel had fallen asleep again by the time they reached the vets office. He could carry the boy in, without worrying about him wanting to stop and pet all the kittens and puppies. He lifted him carefully out of the booster seat, letting his head rest atop his shoulder and keeping the blanket wrapped around his small body as he closed the car door.

“Thank you for whatever deity is looking out or me right now.” He said skyward in a hushed tone, because Abel didn’t even stir when the door made a loud irking sound.

It was afterhours so he didn’t have to worry about the bell on the door when he walked through it. He could hear two heartbeats, Deaton and Scott, coming from the back room. One of them had been gracious enough to leave the mountain ash gate open so he could make his way to the back without any issues.

The vet leveled him with a judgmental look the minute he stepped into the area. The scent of caution and guilt that were coming from Scott alerted him to the idea that his best friend might have said a few things about what happened tonight while he was waiting. It wasn’t a surprise, Scott looked to Deaton for counsel.

“You brought a child.” Deaton raised an inquisitive brow. “Is there a reason for that?”

“He wouldn’t let me leave without him.” Even he wasn’t immune to the puppy dog look. “I had a question about the claw marks on his neck though. It’s not going to turn him into a were-jaguar, is it? Kate was turned by a scratch, could she have turned him?”

“Can that happen?” Scott asked with the scent of panic overtaking his scent. “He can’t be a werewolf, he’s five.”

“Only an alpha wolf can turn someone.” Deaton answered calmly. “Kate took the shape of what she was inside, but a wolf’s bite is what turned her. She would have been an omega, if jaguars needed packs. She wouldn’t have the ability to turn anyone. The boy will be fine.”

“Awesome.” He felt himself relax knowing Abel would not turn into a mini-wolf. “On to why I’m here, do you have the magical potion or whatever?”

“I do. I’ll give it to you in a moment.” The vet placed himself between Stiles and what was probably his salvation in a bottle. “I have a few questions for you about today.”

“Fine.” He grumbled, shifting Abel on his hip and leaning back against the counter. “I knew it wouldn’t come without a price. You are allergic to giving us anything straight. It’s like you get-off on being a cryptic dickbag.”

“Stiles!” Scott scolded him.

“Sorry.” He offered a halfhearted apology. “Ask your questions, oh wise one.”

“How long did it take you to find an anchor?”

“Fifteen, twenty minutes.”

“Did you use your enhanced abilities, claws or teeth, to mortally wound anyone?”

“No, I didn’t kill anyone with my werewolfy powers.” He used them to maim not murder. “Magic 101, do not use the gifts given to you for evil.”

“If you had, this change would be permanent.” That was good information to have. “You only lost complete control when you killed Kate? Or was there another time?”

“No.”

“No, there was not another time?”

“I didn’t lose control.” He wasn’t sure what Scott had told him but that was the truth. “I knew what I was doing. I was in complete control of all of my faculties when I did it.”

“Hmm.” The judgmental look was back before Deaton turned to grab something off the table behind him. He mixed a powdery substance in a vial of blue liquid before facing them again. “You need to take this before the moon goes down or we’ll have to wait for the next full moon.”

“Okay.” He took the proffered bottle and slipped it into his pocket. “Is there anything special I need to do when I take it?”

“No, though it will make you drowsy so keep that in mind. If you have any problems give me a call.”

“Will do.” He nodded his thanks before turning to Scott.

He had been more than a little angry with Scott and the entire pack just a few short hours ago. They weren’t too happy with him either. But, he had time to think during the drive up here. Scott was his best friend, his brother, and he loved him, but they thought differently. He hated being at odds with him, even for a few hours. If he could patch up one of the holes made in their friendship tonight, then he had to try.

“Need a ride home?” Usually Scott was the one who broke first, was the one who came to Stiles with an olive branch extended.

“I have my bi – “ He started but stopped himself. “A ride would be great.”

The drive through town was relatively silent. Stiles knew he had wanted this but he didn’t know where to start. It couldn’t all be fixed in a few minutes. There were things that had to be talked about in length and the pack would have to be there because they were involved too. Very little could be solved by the time he dropped Scott off.

“I overreacted, a little bit.” If he wanted something fixed then he might as well admit his wrongdoings first. “When you guys said you asked Juice for help. I overreacted.”

“We should have talked to you about it first.”

“He’s his own man. He makes his own decisions.” He wasn’t the _yay_ or _nay_ vote that decided what Juice did. “But when it comes to doing something for the pack, then I would be to the one to ask him for favors. He knows how to say no to me if he’s uncomfortable. He doesn’t know how to do that with you.”

“I’m sorry for not telling you about Kate.” Scott said, getting to the real problem of Stiles being kept in the dark by his pack. “I just didn’t want to pile more on your already full plate.”

“I can handle it. The club and the pack have been a big balancing act from the start, but I’m good with it.” It was chaotic at times, but he tended to work more efficiently in chaos. “It’s knowing that something is going on and not being able to help. I can tell when you guys are hiding something and it hurts that you don’t trust me enough to tell me. You don’t trust me to know what I can handle. “

“I do trust you and I’m sorry.” He replied in a small voice, sadness tainting his scent.

“I accept your apology, so long as it never happens again. You tell me things, whether you think I can handle the stress or not.”

“I promise.” Stiles really wanted to believe that.

“I’m sorry for overreacting earlier.” He put in, realizing he hadn’t actually said it before.

“It’s okay.” His brother gave him a small smile.

“We good?”

“About what happened with Kate – “

“No, Scott.” He wasn’t going to talk about that again, not now, not with Scott, and certainly not with Abel in the backseat.

“It’s not who you are, Stiles.” _It,_ being a killer. “It’s not who the pack is. I know you know that. So, yeah, we’re good.”

"Good.” He spoke as he parked the car outside Scott’s house. “Well, this is where I leave you.”

“Cool. Thanks for the ride.” Scott said as he unbuckled himself. “I’ll text you tomorrow to make sure the wolf swap went okay.”

“Sounds good.”

“Hey Stiles?”

“What?”

“Come home soon.”

“I’m home now.” Beacon Hills was home, he was in Beacon Hills at the moment.

“That’s not what I mean.” Scott said as he climbed out of the passenger side of the car.

“I know.” He didn’t know when he would come home permanently, but he hoped it would be soon. “Yo, Scotty?”

“Yeah?” The other ducked his head back down to see him.

“That other thing my dad said you guys were keeping from me,” Scott averted his eyes before Stiles could even finish. “Is it about Juice?”

“No, of course not.” Scott had slammed the door shut and was jogging up to the porch before Stiles could tell him that he had heard a blip in his heartbeat call out the lie.

“Food now, Uncle?” Stiles jumped at his seat, smacking his head on the roof, in shock at the sudden voice coming from the back of his car.

“Jesus.” He rubbed his head. “When did you wake up?”

“I want a happy meal.” The boy answered, ignoring the question in favor of yawning.

“Just this once and you have to eat it in the car.”

“Okay.”

* * *

 

They reached the halfway point between Beacon Hills and Charming in good time. The traffic was light, just them and a few big rigs on the road at this time of night. Stiles had his window down, letting the cold wind his face, keeping him awake. The radio was turned down low, barely audible, set to whatever preset Wendy or Tara had left it on. Stiles glanced in the rearview mirror to check in on Abel, who was sitting silently in his booster seat, chewing on cold fries, and playing with a dragon toy that had come with his meal.

It was hard for him to get a read on his nephew sometimes. Like now, when the boy was acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened to him today. After they had stopped at the drive thru he had chattered on about going to school tomorrow while chowing down on his cheeseburger. It was as if the day’s events had no effect on him whatsoever.

Even his sudden clinginess, the need to be with Stiles, was odd. He had seen and heard things during his time in the warehouse. He had claws wrapped around his throat for god’s sake. There was no telling how much he knew about what Stiles had done. He had seen Stiles wolfed out, claws and teeth on display, if anything that alone should make him shy away not huddle closer.

It was possible that the boy just didn’t understand. He may already be accustomed to violence so much that he was numb to it now.

“Abel,” He spoke to get the boys attention. “I’m not sure what you understand about what happened today or what you know happened. If you know what I did…”

“The bad lady took me and grandma. You hurt the bad lady.” The way he said was enough to set off warning bells in Stiles head. There was no fear or confusion, not even anger. It was so normal, like he was telling Stiles what he had done at school that day.

“That’s true, yes. I hurt the bad lady.” The hand he held the gun in twitched against the steering wheel unconsciously. “What I did wasn’t okay, Abel. You know that right?”

“Why?” There was the confusion he was looking for previously.

If Scott were still in the car he would say, because killing was wrong. Scott lived in a world of black and white, where right was right and wrong was wrong. Stiles lived in shades of grey, where sometimes you had to do something wrong to make things right.

He knew killing Kate was wrong, but he wouldn’t take it back the bullet he had lodged in her skull. It was self defense, and even if it hadn’t been, in that moment he had known that if she got to live, his loved one would suffer. He ended her life, before she could end his or someone else’s. He didn’t regret the decision he made, but he didn’t like it either. He wasn’t happy about it. His father was right when he said it would weigh heavily on him, and it already was, but he was never going to cry tears over putting an end to Kate Argents reign of terror.

Abel didn’t need to know all of that, though. He didn’t need to see the grey area Stiles lived in. He needed to see the black and white world that Scott preached from. He needed to learn that bad was bad and good was good.

“Hurting people is wrong, Abel. We talked about it yesterday, remember?” If Abel could learn the difference between an accident and intent then he could understand right from wrong.

“She was gonna hurt us. She hurt me.” Stiles felt the bile of guilt rise in his throat. “You saved us.”

“I had to hurt Kate, or I wouldn’t be here right now, but that doesn’t make it okay. I didn’t have a choice when I hurt Kate.” He sighed as he tried to find the right words. “If I had a choice between hurting Kate and handing her over to my dad - “

“What could he do?”

“He’s a policeman, a sheriff. He puts bad people in jail for doing bad things.” Kate’s jail would be a nice cell in Eichen House. “If I had the choice to hand her over to my dad or anyone else, I would have done that over hurting her. What I’m trying to say is, even for the right reasons hurting people is wrong. Does that make sense? Do you understand that?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Hopefully, the boy truly did understand as much as he could and was not just humoring Stiles. “I know what that woman did was scary and that I was scary too. I wouldn’t blame you for being afraid of me.”

“Not afraid of you.” He saw conviction written on the child’s face when he glanced in the rearview mirror again. “You did a bad thing. You’re not a bad man. You saved me.”

“Abel – “

“Only if you have to, right?”

“What?”

“I asked before if you were going to do bad things.” Stiles racked his brain until he remembered the conversation they had his second night in Charming. “You said, only if you had to.”

“Yes, I did.”

“You had to. You’re not a bad man.” It was said like a promise, like maybe he wasn’t going to let Stiles turn into a bad man.

“Thank you, Abel.”

* * *

 

It didn’t take much to get Abel to sleep once they got back to the cabin. He laid the kid down beside Wendy and tucked him in before making his escape into the kitchen. Jax and Happy had come back before he had and were sitting at the rickety table sharing a joint with Chibs. He had seen Gemma and Nero curled up together on the couch in the living room as he came in. Quinn and Montez were keeping watch on the front porch, and he was pretty sure he had heard Brooke and Rat going at in the bathroom as he passed by the door. There was one person he hadn’t seen though.

“Where’s Tiggy?”

“He wanted to spend some time with Venus.”

“You guys okay?” It was a stupid question for him to ask. They would all say yes, but none of them were. Bobby was the heart of the club, the conscience.

“Aye.” Chibs answered, letting out a puff of smoke. “You get yourself sorted?”

“Yeah.” He pulled the vial out of his pocket and set it on the counter. “I take that and everything goes back to normal.”

“I didn’t know you came with a normal setting.” The Scot quipped.

“I didn’t. I had one installed recently.” He shot back.

“We’re going back home tomorrow.” Jax broke through their banter. “No reason to be up here anymore.”

“Okay.” They hadn’t been up here long but he was sure they were all itching to be home.

“Is your sidekick going to be up to going to school tomorrow?”

“He wants to go. I can drive him on my way to county.” He expected the narrowed eyes from his brother, but they were uncalled for coming from Happy. “I’m gonna go see Juice. He should know about Bobby. He loved him too.”

“They aren’t going to let him have visitors. He’s in isolation.”

“I have my ways of getting in.” He was going to meet with Patterson first, give up some intel on Jarry in exchange for the visit. “You let me worry about that.”

“At least your telling me where you’re going this time.” It was his turn to narrow his eyes. “You don’t answer your phone and you are never where you’re supposed to be. Half the time, you are MIA and I’ve got to figure out if you’ve been taken or if you just took off.”

“I’ll be better about keeping someone informed about where I’ll be and answering my phone.” He would do it if only to give his brother peace of mind. “About what happened with Kate taking Abel and Gem – “

“We’ll talk about it later.” He said it so harshly that it felt like a lead weight had dropped in Stiles stomach. It must have shown because his brother’s face softened. “I don’t blame you, Stiles. It’s just been a long day and I don’t want to get into it right now. I think you should take whatever is in that bottle and then we should all go to bed.”

“Yeah, okay. Bottoms up.” He uncapped the vial, eyeing it suspiciously, before knocking it back like a shot. “Oh…fuck.”

If feeling the wolf enter his system was like a warmth enveloping him his body, covering him like a blanket, then feeling it leave was that warmth cranked up by a thousand degrees. It felt like it was burning its way through his blood stream, searing his veins with scars. And, fuck, maybe it wasn’t supposed to feel like that.

“I knew my mouth would get me into trouble one day.” He forced out, feeling shards of glass cutting open his throat, but his hands felt nothing as he gripped it. “But, I didn’t think Deaton would poison me for that dickbag comment.”

“Stiles?” His brother’s voice sounded too loud in his ears. He cried out, pushing the man away when he got to close.

He knees went weak and making him sway in place, before they gave out completely. Jax and Chibs caught him, lowering him to the floor as his body began to shake. It was when the darkness began to overtake the light in his vision did he realize that what could be happening to him.

It was what emissaries did. Morrell had told him so right before she had threatened him with lethal injection if they couldn’t find a cure for the nogitsune. They maintained the balance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: [I Want Them to Be Safe](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/110384150879/mama-gemma-au-i-want-them-to-be-safe-21%0A) and [Stay Away From Stiles.](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/110006714564/mama-gemma-au-stay-away-from-stiles-20/)  
> [TUMBLR](http://www.stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/)  
> [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/user/SandM1827/)  
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos, they are greatly appreciated.


	10. I Can See the Darkness Through the Cracks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd.  
> Chapter title is from Day is Gone by Noah Gunderson  
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: Rape/Non-con Elements [Threats/Mentions of]. Extremely Dubious Consent. Sexual Coercion.  
> Feel free to send me an ask on tumblr if you need to know where any of the above triggers are located in the story so you can avoid them.  
> Gif Sets: [I Want Them to Be Safe](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/110384150879/mama-gemma-au-i-want-them-to-be-safe-21) and [Stay Away from Stiles](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/110006714564/mama-gemma-au-stay-away-from-stiles-20)  
> Art: [New Cover](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/109608575759/betrayal-is-unforgivable-cover)  
> 

He was stuck under an icy surface. His entire body was frozen, paralyzed. He opened his mouth to scream, only to have it fill with water. He struggled, willed his limbs to move, but it was useless. He was drowning.

* * *

 

Jax jolted awake as soon as the cold water hit his arm. He cursed himself for dozing off when he saw that his brother’s head had slipped beneath the surface. He climbed to his knees and reached into the tub, pulling the younger man up until his head and torso were no longer submerged in the water.

Seeing Stiles flailing arms and rapidly blinking eyes shocked him more than the splashing water had. The kid hadn’t regained consciousness since he had passed out on the kitchen floor of the cabin. That had been hours ago. He and Chibs had moved him from the cabin to Jax’s house without him waking. Now he was as alert as he possibly could be after waking up in a bathtub full of ice.

“Stiles,” He tried to keep his voice calm, because his brother was freaking the fuck out. He was pushing against Jax’s chest, soaking his shirt, trying uselessly to push him away. “Stiles, hey, look at me. Can you look at me?”

Confident that his brother could sit up on his own, he let go of his shoulders to grip Stiles face, hoping to steady him. If he could get Stiles to keep his head still, then he could get him to focus.

The kid was absolutely freezing, which was to be expected given the bath he was in. Jax reached a hand to his forehead anyway, just in case it was still hot to the touch, despite the rest of Stiles body temperature. Thankfully, it was not.

“Cold.” He whimpered, the first audible thing Jax had heard from him. “Cold.”

“Okay. I’m gonna help you out, but the minute you spike a fever you are going back in.” He wasn’t going to risk another seizure.

“Out?” The confusion on Stiles face worried him. “Out of where?”

“The bathtub.” Stiles eyes flitted slowly toward the water. The sight seemed to kick start a new alertness in him. “Stiles?”

“How long?” He asked in a panic.

“'How long?'” Jax echoed back to his brother.

“Under the water…?”

“Not long.” He only dozed off for a second. Stiles could not have been under longer than that.

“No. No. No.” He began to shake and this time not from the cold. “Can’t happen again. It can’t get in again.”

“Hey,” He slipped on the water sloshed floor when Stiles abruptly tried to stand up in the tub, lost his footing, and fell right onto Jax. “Jesus Christ.”

“You have to get Scott and call Deaton.” Stiles pleaded, letting Jax take his weight. “They can get it out. Have to change the host.”

“There is nothing inside of you.” He wrapped an arm around his brother’s waist as he pulled them both into a standing position. “And I’m not letting Deaton near you until I know what the hell he gave you before.”

“Scott has to do it.” His brother whimpered, burying his face in Jax’s neck. “Change the host.”

He didn’t have a clue what Stiles was going on about, but made a mental note to ask about it later. For now, he grabbed a towel off the rack, letting Stiles continue to mutter things that made no sense as he dried him off.

“I need you to help me out here, bro.” He told Stiles as he made a failed attempt to pry his brother off him and lean him against the counter. “We gotta get some clothes on you. Stay still for a minute.”

“Do you need help?” Scott’s voice sounded from behind the closed door and Jax had almost forgotten he was there.

“Do you want to see your best friends junk?” The silence that followed was enough to answer that question. “No, I don’t need your help with this. Go make that special tea you brought. Leave it on the nightstand in my bedroom.”

“Okay.”

“Jax,” Stiles pitiful voice grabbed his attention once more. “Don’t let me go under again. It can’t happen again.”

“Later on you are going to explain to me what can’t happen again, because I knew you were scared of drowning, but this is a whole new level for you.” That fear may have stemmed from a childhood incident involving their Grandma Rose. ”You are not going back into the tub unless your fever comes back, okay?”

“Yes.”

“I’m gonna take your boxers off and help you into some dry ones now.” It was better to tell him rather than strip them off without warning. His lack of coherence would probably cause another freak out.

“Jax?”

“Yeah, buddy?” It came out in the same tone he used when talking to Abel. It was hard not to revert to that mode when his little brother was sick.

“I’m cold.”

“I know.” He sighed. “That is why we are getting you into some dry clothes.”

He helped Stiles out of one set of boxers and into dry ones. He was thankful Gemma had brought Stiles bag to the house, on her way to dropping Abel off at school, so he had clean clothes to wear. He grabbed the pair of sweats off the top of the bag, and got them on without much a hassle.

“Arms up.” He said to his brother as he held up the SONS sweatshirt the kid seemed to favor. Stiles complied, and Jax slid it over his head without any issues.

He expected getting Stiles into bed would be a fight, like it was when he was a child. He was always clingy when he was sick. When he was little, he would not leave Jax’s side when he had the sniffles. Jax had to carry him around all day, even while working at TM. He could remember asking both his mother and John if that was normal behavior and they had both laughed in his face.

This time, Stiles was surprisingly pliant as Jax helped him into the room. He sat him down on the bed, holding his shoulder to keep him upright, using his other hand to reach for the mug of tea on his side table.

“You need to drink some of this.” He brought it up to his brother’s lips, knowing his shaking hands weren’t ready to grip the cup.

“I don’t want it.” The younger replied petulantly, seeming more lucid then he had been just a few minutes ago. “Smells gross.”

“You are not five years old anymore. The, _it’s yucky,_ excuse doesn’t work when you're eighteen.” He did not put up with that behavior then and he sure as hell wouldn’t put up with it now. “Just a little bit. You’ll feel better.”

“You hope.” Stiles grumbled, his attitude going from toddler to teenager, which he hoped was a good sign. “I don’t want it.”

“It is the only thing we have that’s going to keep your fever from coming back.” That’s what Scott had said at least, when he had shown up at Jax’s door hours ago with a new mixture of herbs courtesy of Deaton. He was wary about giving Stiles anything else that came from the guy, but he didn’t have a lot of options here. “Please, Stiles.”

“’Kay.” The younger relented.

He only managed a few sips before his eyes began to drift closed. Jax pushed him gently back onto the bed, pulling the covers up to his neck. He checked for a fever one last time before determining that it was safe for him to leave the room.

“Get some sleep, kiddo.” He whispered to his brothers sleeping form as he walked out, leaving the door ajar as he went.

He wandered into the kitchen and stopped at the sight that greeted him. It was Scott standing at his table, fondling a gun in his hands. Stiles gun.

“Planning to use that on someone?” His voice must have startled the wolf, because the gun dropped from his hands and clattered against the table.

“No! I was just…” Just looking at the weapon Stiles used to kill someone. “How is he?”

“His fever broke so I took him out of the tub. He’s sleeping now.” He wasn’t going to say Stiles was better, because he didn’t know if that was true or not.

He had thought they had been through the worst of it earlier and he was wrong then. Stiles had taken his first ice bath at the cabin. He hadn’t been in long when his fever seemed to dissipate, so Jax decided to move him back to his house. They were six blocks away when his brother began to seize, thankfully, Chibs had been riding in the jeep with them and was able to keep him from hurting himself.

“Is he still in pain? I could help.” The younger man a move for the hallway, but Jax blocked his way before he could get far.

“Just leave him alone for now.” He wasn’t going to let Scott anywhere near his baby brother until he got some damn answers. “Sit down.”

“Why?” The kid took a hesitant step backward.

“Sit down.” He repeated, taking a moment to enjoy the fact that, alpha wolf or not, Scott was still afraid of him. “Now.”

The wolf looked uncertain but took a seat anyway. Jax studied him for a minute. He watched Scott’s hands twitch against the tabletop, like Stiles did when he was nervous. Scott’s eyes flickered toward the gun, up to Jax, then back down again. Jax picked the weapon up, removed the clip, and dropped it back to the table before sitting down himself.

“I appreciate you coming down and checking in on Stiles.” He kept his voice even as he spoke. “It means a lot.”

“He’s my brother, of course I’m here.” He was sure it had nothing to do with the fact that Scott’s presence was the only reason John didn’t come rushing back to Charming. Scott was the only thing that could placate the older man, who needed rest and minor medical treatment after the fight with the berserkers.

“I have some questions for you.” The fidgeting fingers began tapping the tabletop. “You are not going to see Stiles until I get my answers.”

“What do you want to know?”

“I want to know why you are perfectly fine, but Stiles spiked a fever high enough to give him a seizure last night.” He wanted to know why he was told not to take him to the hospital when his brain was frying. “Why did Stiles think you boss would poison him?”

“Deaton wouldn’t poison Stiles. He wouldn’t.”

“Does maintaining the balance mean anything to you?” It was the last coherent thing Stiles had said the night before.

“It’s an emissary thing. They maintain the balance between good and evil.” Scott explained.

“Stiles kills Kate, who was by all rights evil, so your boss thinks it is okay to take out Stiles to maintain the balance.” He was going to kill the son of a bitch.

“No!” The younger man shook his head vehemently. “Deaton doesn’t work like that. His sister does, but not him.”

“So, explain to me why _my_ brother spent the night in an ice bath after taking whatever crap Deaton gave him.” Stiles could have easily died and if it had to do with what the vet had given him then Jax would not let him return to Beacon Hills until Deaton was six feet under.

“I watched Deaton mix it, it was the exact same thing he gave me. It was only supposed to make him drowsy. He would take it, go to bed, and wake up fully human.” Well, he was half-right. Stiles was human again.

“What went wrong?”

“Deaton said it might have been a reaction to one of the herbs. He’s pretty sure that Kate added something extra to what she gave Stiles, in case we tried to switch back before we got to the warehouse.” So she had prior knowledge of what Deaton would use to switch them back.

“Why did she only add it to what she gave Stiles and not to what she gave you?” Scott had admitted earlier that Kate had given both he and Kira things to drink while holding them captive in Mexico, and that was how the potion go into his system.

“I don’t know. Maybe she thought Stiles was more dangerous as a human than as an alpha.” She would have been right. “Deaton is sure Stiles will be okay as long as the tea does what it’s supposed to.”

“He should be in the hospital.” If John knew how bad it was, how high Stiles temperature was, he would have told Jax to take him to the ER or risk being murdered by the sheriff himself.

“If some of the herbs that were in that stuff showed up on a tox-screen…”

“Basically, I was saving your bosses ass by not taking Stiles in. It had nothing to do with Stiles health.” It was nice to have all of the information now. “I’m assuming some of those _herbs_ were not of the legal variety.”

“He said Stiles would be okay, that he wouldn’t need the hospital. I believed him. He would not poison Stiles or put him in danger. It was his stuffs interaction with Kate’s that made Stiles sick, yeah, but he’s trying to make it right with that tea. It’s working, right?”

“It’s too soon to tell.” He was more lucid when Jax had put him to bed, but that didn’t mean much.

“You don’t trust who you don’t know. I get that. Stiles know Deaton, he trusts him.”

“That’s not the impression I got from Stiles last night.” He replied while he pulled a cigarette out of the carton on the table and lit up.

“Stiles wasn’t himself last night.” Scott snapped.

It was amazing how dismissive Scott could be of Stiles ability to go dark. It was easy to blame last night on the moon and the wolf. Scott couldn’t see the reality of it. Stiles kept pieces of himself hidden, the angry ones that promised violence. He tamped it down, covered it in layers of sarcasm and self-deprecation, so that no one could ever see. Scott dismissed it because it was so rarely seen, so abnormal, that it frightened him. Any other day, Jax might be more understanding of that fear, but today Stiles didn’t need the alpha to look at him with scrutiny and distrust.

“I think you should go home.” He told the younger man.

“What? Why?”

“There is nothing you can do for him now. It’s just going to piss him off if he see’s you here. Despite what happened yesterday, his rules still apply.” Charming stayed in Charming and Beacon Hills stayed in Beacon Hills. “I will have him call you when he’s up and around.”

“Jax – “

“Go home, Scott.” The wolfs eyes flashed red at the order.

“I just want to help.”

“You have helped. Now the best thing you can do is go back to Beacon Hills and make sure his dad knows he’s going to be fine.”

“Okay.”

* * *

 

Stiles woke up feeling as if he had gone three rounds with every member of the alpha pack. Twice. It was a step up from what he had felt before, when he was on fire and his insides were melting.

He looked down at himself to see if maybe his body held the answers to why he felt like death warmed over. It didn’t. He was wearing different clothes then the ones he remembered being in last night. He had on sweatpants, that he had taken from Juice’s drawers, and Jax’s sweatshirt, which might as well be his now as often as he wore it.

The bedding he had knocked off himself at some point was suspicious as well. It was a comforter, not any of the crocheted blankets from the cabin, and it was not the same color as the one’s Gemma had in her guest room. He lifted his head to take better stalk of his surroundings and finally figured out where he was.

“Jax’s house.” He murmured, wondering when and how he had ended up there.

It took him two tries to stand up and longer than he would like to remember how to use his legs. He stumbled out of the room and down the hallway slowly, keeping one hand against the wall to keep from toppling over. He found his brother in the living room, slumped down on the sofa looking run down and exhausted.

He sat on the couch, keeping a measured distance between them in case Jax was put off by what he witnessed during Stiles short time as a werewolf. His older brother stared him down with a calculated look, glaring at the empty space, before throwing an arm over Stiles shoulder and dragging him closer until his head lolled against his brother’s.

“I thought you would sleep through the day.” Jax told him, rubbing a hand up and down Stiles arm. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m getting over a really bad cold.” A shiver accompanied his answer. “What time is it?”

“A little after eleven. You were out most of the night and morning. I only put you to bed an hour and a half ago.” The worry in Jax’s voice wasn’t lost on him. “The vets tea must have worked.”

“How did I get here?”

“Your fever broke once while we were at the cabin. I decided to bring you here. By the time we got here, you were in the middle of another seizure. I had to put you back in the ice bath.” His brother admitted. “You said some things when you woke up in the tub. Do you remember?”

“No.” He tensed in fear, not knowing exactly what he could have confessed in a fevered haze.

“You asked me how long you were under the water. You told me to get Scott and Deaton. You told me they could get _it_ out of you. You want to tell me what that meant?” Stiles froze, because, no, he did not want to tell him. He didn’t want to talk about that with anyone. “You don’t have to.”

“Nogitsune.” He said quickly. “Being drowned in an ice bath is how the nogitsune was released.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There was a woman, my English teacher, who was sacrificing people. Virgins, healers, warriors, philosophers, and guardians. Chris Argent, Melissa, and my dad were supposed to be the last ones.” He swallowed the lump that rose in his throat at the thought of his father in danger. “They were the guardians.”

“Supposed to be?”

“Deaton knew a ritual that could save them. We would sacrifice ourselves in their place. To do that we had to be submerged, dead more or less, in an ice bath. We, Scott, Allison, and me, were under for sixteen hours.” He would leave out most of the consequences that Jax couldn’t understand. How they reactivated the Nemeton and were responsible for the influx of supernatural creatures appearing in Beacon Hills.

“Jesus Christ.” His brother shuddered beside him. “You were dead. You were dead for sixteen hours.”

“We weren’t supposed to be under that long. It worked, though. We saved our parents. There was a cost for what we did. We have this darkness around our hearts that will be there forever. It will never go away.” He and Scott would have to live with it. Allison was already at peace, she didn’t have to suffer any more. “It manifested in different ways with all of us. Scott had trouble with his new alpha power. He couldn’t control it. Allison was seeing visions of her aunt.”

“And you?”

“I could never tell if I was awake or asleep. I would have to scream myself out of nightmare.” It probably didn’t sound like much to Jax, but he didn’t have to live with it. “I think the nogitsune was already in me, but it needed the jolt of energy from the electrocution to really take control.”

“You said before that the nogitsune was the worst thing you had faced.”

“While it was in me, it blew up my dad’s office, killed some of his deputies. I killed a guy who used to be a member of the Yakuza, and set Derek and Argent up for his murder. I set up a trap and shot my coach with an arrow. I set a psycho loose on Kira. I stabbed Scott with a sword.” He shook his head, trying to shake the images from his mind. “When it separated from me, it still had my body, my face. It went on a rampage through the hospital, nearly killed Melissa. It attacked my dad and his remaining deputies at the station. It called the oni that attacked the pack, the ones that killed Allison.”

“You did not do any of that. It did, using your body. It was not you. None of that was your fault, Stiles.” Jax assured him. “You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“Do you blame yourself for Opie?” His brother reeled back in his seat, the answer written clearly on his face. “You can’t absolve my guilt, when you still have misplaced guilt of your own.”

“That is not the same thing. You had no control over what you were doing.” And Jax couldn’t possibly have known what Pope had in store for them when they got locked up. “I am SAMCRO’s president. Opie was my responsibility.”

“Ope made a choice. You may not agree with that choice but it was his.” Being president of the Sons of Anarchy made him responsible for a lot, but Opie’s decision to die was not something Jax had a say in. “I saw him yesterday.”

“Opie?”

“I woke up a werewolf and went looking for some guidance. He has never steered me wrong.” A small smile graced his brothers face. “I miss him.”

“Me too.” Jax’s arm tightened around him. “See anyone else while you were there?”

“Tommy.” Jax was probably expecting him to say Tara, but Stiles had answered before he could really think about it and found himself backtracking at the name. “Thomas. I saw Thomas.”

“You can call him Tommy.” Jax reassured him in a strange tone. “He was your brother too.”

“No, he was your brother.” He didn’t share the same connection to Thomas that Jax did. “Do you realize what you just said was the first time anyone has ever said that to me?”

“That can’t be true.”

“No one has ever talked about him to me. I know why.” It hurt Jax and Gemma to talk about him. Thomas was from their life before Stiles came along. “Everything I know about him is what I’ve picked up on. I stole a picture from Gemma’s house when I was little just so I could have something.”

“Why did you go to see him, if you don’t feel like he’s your brother?” Jax questioned.

“I don’t know.” The look Jax gave him told him that wasn’t a good enough answer. “There are three people in my life that I consider my brothers, you, Scott, and Opie. I think about that and it feels wrong because I know, objectively, that Thomas is my brother too. I thought maybe if I saw his grave that I would feel something toward him. All I felt was guilt because I couldn’t feel sadness about him being gone.”

“I never wanted you to think you had to live up to something. That is why I never talked about him.” Jax said solemnly. “I guess I didn’t think about how it would seem to you. I never intended for you to feel like – “

“You didn’t, Jax. I know how much it hurts to talk about someone you lost.”

“He had your moles.” His brother said suddenly. “Or, you have his. He loved baseball. He was a Yankees fan.”

“Blasphemy.” They were Mets fans in this family.

“He liked riding his bicycle, but motorcycles freaked him out. He wouldn’t even ride on dads with him.” Jax told him sadly. “He liked art. He would stay in his room for hours drawing and painting.”

Silence fell over them as Stiles took in the information he was given. He had learned more about Thomas from those few sentences then he had in all his life. It was nice, knowing some things about him. Maybe they would have bonded over baseball if he had lived. Maybe Thomas would have told Stiles about his art and Stiles could have shown him the pictures his mother used to take. Honestly, they probably would have hated each other, constantly fought for Jax’s attention.

“Part of the reason mom pushes you so hard about SAMCRO, is because Thomas never would have joined.” That concept probably made sense to Gemma. “She wouldn’t have been able to keep him close. He would have gone off to some fancy art school and traveled the world. But you… you fit better in this life then he did. You push against it but you fit. She saw that long before I did. But you were never headed down the path that lead you to a patch, so she fought to put you on it.”

“She probably would have benefited more using reverse psychology rather than the direct approach.” He divulged with a smirk.

“If she told you that you would never be SAMCRO then you would have been open to prospecting?”

“Just to piss her off.”

“You and Gem seem better.” Jax pointed out. “You haven’t been jumping down each others throats when you’re in the same room together.”

“We were never that bad.” It was a complete exaggeration.

“Yeah, you were.” Stiles rolled his eyes. “So, what did I miss? What changed? I‘m not stupid enough to believe it’s because I had you two spend time together.”

“We came to an understanding.” He was pretty sure that particular _oh shit_ look that appeared on his brothers face was reserved specifically for he and Gemma. “It’s actually less stressful to get along with her than it is to constantly fight with her.”

“You don’t say.” Jax quipped. “I know I am going to regret asking this, but what is the understanding you came to?”

“We both realized the guaranteed destruction that will happen upon the confessions of our sins.” _Oh shit_ was replaced by a _Jesus Christ, what now_ look.“I already tried telling you, you weren’t ready to listen and I’m not up to getting into it at the moment.”

“That sucks for you because I’m ready to listen now.”

“Then you can listen to this.” He pulled out of his brothers hold so he could face him directly. “It may seem like this is coming out of left field, but it’s not. I’ve had this idea in my head for a while. I have thought long and hard about it. I know pros and the cons. I know it is the best option. I second guessed myself yesterday. I almost changed my mind when Abel got hurt. I had a chance to think about it more on the drive back from Beacon Hills.”

“To think about what?”

“Your boys.” Jax looked at him in confusion. “I want them, Jax. I want to take them out of Charming.”

“You want to take my boys away?”

“I want them to be safe.”

“How is a town infested with the supernatural supposed to be safer than this?”

“It’s not.” He wasn’t naïve enough to think that. “Unlike you and the club, we don’t actively go looking for trouble. And, when or if shit hits the fan, their safety would be a priority.”

"It’s a priority here.” That was a bold-faced lie if he had ever heard one.

“No, it’s not. When things go crazy the kids get passed off to the lowest Son on the totem pole.” They were handed off to the members that had the least experience. “If they were going to be protected they would be safest with someone who had been in the life awhile, someone who knew the threats and how to handle them.”

“My boys are not going anywhere, Stiles.”

“You were going to let Tara take them.” He gave her the option to leave when he became president. He told the club to allow Tara to do what she wanted when he made his deal with Patterson, before her murder.

“That was a different situation.” Jax insisted.

“No, it wasn't.” Stiles shook his head. “She wanted them away from the violence and the murder. So do I. After everything that’s happened, Tara’s death, Scoops, Diosa, Bobby…. You know it is not safe for them here. They have already been threatened, _no son is safe_ , remember? How long is it going to be before they are the ones you bury?”

“You are trying to scare me.” Jax deduced. “I understand why. You’re looking out for my boys and I am glad they have you to do that for them. I know your heart is in the right place, but my children are staying with me.”

“You mean they are staying with Gemma and Wendy.” They certainly weren’t with their father. “A junkie and Gemma. Those are two fabulous role models.”

“You like Wendy, so why are you – “

“I recognize what she is, how weak she is. I can see how easily she will relapse if she stays in this life.” It wasn’t hard to see the weariness in Wendy’s movements, to see the need for what she couldn’t have. “Why are those kids so much better off with Wendy or Gemma then they would be with me?”

“You are only eighteen, Stiles. You’re going off to college in a few months.” Of course, he would choose the two obvious arguments. “You shouldn’t have to be responsible for them.”

“I want to be. I am asking you to let me take them.” He wanted Jax to agree, so he didn’t have to do this the hard way. “Let me take them and give them the same chance I had at a different life.”

“No.” Jax looked away from him, shaking his head. “I understand why you think you have to do this, but I can’t let you.”

“Jax – “

“I’ve given you my answer.” He told him, a new edge in his tone. “Do not bring this up to me again. My boys are staying in Charming with me.”

“Why?”

“I am their father.”

“Since when?”

“I’m going to blame that comment on the fever and let it go.”

“It’s not the fever. It’s the truth, it just hurts to hear.” Stiles remarked as he stood. “I know you love your boys, Jax. The fact is, you don’t know how to be a parent. You delegate those duties to someone else.”

“I might not be around as much as I should be, but that doesn’t make me any less of their father.” Jax argued, and angry scowl on his face.

“I was so happy for you when you found out you were going to be a dad. I thought you were going to be amazing, because you were such a good big brother to me. It didn’t take long to see that it was different with them.” Stiles sighed. “It is so easy for you to take care of me, but so hard for you to be a real father to Abel and Thomas. Do you ever wonder why? Because, I do.”

“Stiles – “ Whatever Jax was going to say was cut off by the cellphone ringing in his pocket.

“It’s probably the club. They need you.”

“I have to get this.” Jax said as he pulled the phone out of his pocket to check who was calling. “We aren’t done here. We will finish this later.”

“Sure. I have to get dressed so I can leave anyway. I’m getting visitation with Juice today.” He reached for his duffle bag that was sitting on the floor by the couch. “Go take care of your family and, when I’m done with Juice, I’ll go take care of your boys.”

“My kids do not leave Charming, Stiles.” Jax told him in a warning tone.

“Fine.” He would accept that for now. “Where are my wallet and keys?”

“On the kitchen counter.” His brother gestured toward the room. “Your phone and necklace are there too.”

“Necklace…” Stiles hands instinctively reached for the offending object, which was no longer around his neck. “You took it off me?”

“I didn't think you would want it to get wet.” Jax narrowed his eyes at him. “People might get certain ideas when they see you wearing something like that close to your heart. Anything I need to know?”

“Nope.”

* * *

 

“Abel we are going to call your dad and figure this out, okay?” Ms. Harrison said softly to the boy.

“I want to see Grandpa.” Abel replied.

“Your grandpa?” The teacher asked. “His number isn’t on file, sweety.”

“I have it.” He rummaged through his backpack and pulled out a business card, holding it out to her. “He’s a policeman.”

“A sheriff.” She corrected as she read the card. “Okay, we’ll call your grandpa too.”

* * *

 

Patterson came through for him easily enough. He had to tell her that Jarry had planted drugs on him and then arrested him. He made sure to let her know that Unser and a squad room full of deputies had witnessed his unlawful detention. She got him a visit that day, which is why he was sitting in a nearly empty waiting area, a half hour before his scheduled visit.

He was nervous. He didn’t know how Juice would react to the news of Bobby’s death. He would be devastated, but Stiles did not want that sadness to make him vulnerable or send him into a downward spiral. He didn’t want Juice to appear weak to the other prisoners when he ended up in gen-pop. He had to be told, though, by someone he knew, before he heard it from someone in the prison yard.

“What are you doing here?” He fought the urge to groan in annoyance. He did not want to deal with her shit today.

“Lt. Jarry.” He pasted on a smile as he looked up at her.

“What are you doing here?” She repeated, hands on her hips.

“Visiting.” He didn’t tack on the _duh_ , no matter how much he wanted to.

“Who?”

“Juan Carlos Ortiz.” Who the hell else would he be visiting?

“I didn’t authorize any visitation.”

“You are not the only one with the ability to grant visitation.” He wasn’t entirely sure if her position as sheriff gave her control on who could visit who at the county correctional facility. “I know people that are of higher stature than you, who were happy to let me see a friend.”

“What do they get from you? No one would do that for free.”

“Information.” He did not pay people off with money like his brother did.

“About who?” Her voice changed from an _I am talking to a suspect_ tone to _I’m talking to a witness_. “Maybe I can help you and whoever you’re giving information to.”

“That’s doubtful.” Considering she was the person they were trying to bring down. “Call me crazy but I feel safer working with officials that follow the law they are supposed to uphold. I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure you have your hands full with my brother.”

The look she gave him was absolutely scathing. Her eyes shifted to the few other people who were waiting to visit their friends and loved ones. They studiously looked away from her withering gaze. She was an idiot if she thought the towns people had no idea she was working with SAMCRO. She did not hide it as well as she thought she did.

“You need to be very careful how you navigate around Charming.” She warned him.

“Don’t worry. Lieutenant, I know exactly what you are capable of.”

“Sure you do.”

She turned on her heels and walked away, leaving in the same direction she had come in from a few minutes earlier. He watched her chat with the man behind the bullet-proof glass. They exchanged a few words and shook hands before she came back around to him again.

“Enjoy your visit.”

She was through the exit before he could respond. He didn’t have much time to think about either, because the next thing he knew his name was being called by the guard, telling him he could go back now. He followed the guard to what he thought would be the visiting area. He was expecting a table and chairs. What he got was a small room with a full size bed.

“What the actual fuck…” He mumbled to himself. He knew exactly what this room was for and he was sure that Patterson did not okay him to be here. He signed up for a visitation, not for a conjugal.

He may or may not have been in the process of working himself into a panic attack when Juice was brought in. The other man glanced at him with wide eyes as he was un-cuffed and they were left alone.

He looked like crap, dark bags under his eyes. From the way he stood, it was clear he had been roughed up, which was odd considering Patterson told him Juice was in isolation, he had no contact with anyone outside of the guards. He looked a hell of a lot worse than Stiles had ever seen him, and Stiles had been the one to help Chibs take care of him after his first suicide attempt, so that way saying something.

He could not stop himself from rushing over. He didn’t miss the way Juice flinched as he wrapped his arms around him, or how it took him several seconds to return the embrace. The older man buried his nose in Stiles nape, inhaling his scent and letting out a shuddering sigh.

“You look like shit.” Juice said finally and Stiles couldn’t help but laugh.

“So do you.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I have something to tell you.” He moved out of their hug, but kept his hands on Juice’s shoulders. He looked into his eyes, saw the stress and the depression, and he couldn’t do it. He could not tell him.

“What is it?” Juice asked.

“I… I miss you.” It earned him a small smile that made him go warm inside.

“I miss you to.” Juice bit his lip and let his gaze fall to the bed. “How did you make this happen?”

“I didn’t. I got a visit, but not this.” He doubted Patterson would schedule a conjugal for he and Juice, even if he asked nicely. “This has Jarry written all over it.”

“Why would she do this?”

“I mouthed off to her out there.” He jerked his thumb toward the door.

“I still don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand it either. Just to be clear, what is supposed to happen in this room is not going to happen.” There was no way they were having sex here. “I wish I could do that for you, but – “

“No. I don’t want to do that here.” Juice replied, a haunted look appearing on his face. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m sorry.” He dropped his head, looking at the floor. “I needed to see you.”

“I don’t want you to see me here.” He gestured toward the room. “I know you’ve seen Jax when he’s been locked up, but I didn’t want you to see me in a cage.”

“You have seen me in worse conditions than this.” Juice had seen him possessed, covered in blood. He had cleaned him up, and got rid of any evidence that could have resulted in Stiles being incarcerated for a very long time. “Are you okay? I mean, are you…”

“I’m okay. I’ve done time before.” That did not exactly reassure him. “Are you okay? You look paler than usual. Are you sick?”

“I’m fine. It was a really long night.” He didn’t want to go into details, he didn’t want Juice to have anything else to worry over.

“Your night have anything to do with August Marks?” Juice asked. “He was transferred here this morning.”

“That was a club thing. I was dealing with pack stuff.” He let his head fall against the other mans shoulder. “There’s something I need to tell you, but I don’t want to.”

“Is someone hurt?” Stiles shook his head. “Is someone dead?”

“Yes.” He whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Who?”

“Bo -“ The door to the room opened before he could finish, before he could tell him that Bobby was dead and buried in the dirt outside of the cabin.

Juice turned as the guards came in, pushing Stiles behind him protectively. The way they smiled when the door slammed shut behind them made the hairs on the back of Stiles neck stand on end.

“He was just leaving.” Juice told them, referring to Stiles, before anyone else could speak.

“No, I don’t think he is.” The taller of the pair drawled. “No one is going anywhere when we have two pretty twinks and a bed ready for use.”

“No.” The pure venom in Juice’s voice had Stiles taking a step back. He had never heard that tone from Juice before. “What you think is going to happen is not going to.”

Stiles kept quiet, let Juice take control of the situation. He trusted Juice to handle things. Stiles had no experience in jail. He had never dealt with corrupt prison guards before. He wasn’t going to mouth off, make the wrong move, and get Juice hurt. He would get to leave here once this was over, but Juice had to stay for however long. He was not about to jeopardize Juice’s safety for anything.

“Did your time with Tully this morning not teach you your place, Ortiz?” The guard smirked while Juice flinched at the name. Stiles was getting really tired of hearing people in positions of power talk about others knowing their places. “Maybe we should remind you by spending some time with the kid.”

“I will kill you before I let you touch him.” This was the Juice no one saw anymore. Even to the ones closest to him he was the fuck up, the traitor, or the broken man. They forgot the protector, the one who would kill or be killed to save someone he loved.

“Threatening a guard, Ortiz? That does not look good – “

“I’m not threatening anyone.” Juice corrected him. “It’s a simple fact. You are not going to touch him.”

“How about this, you fuck the boy or we take our turns with the both of you.” The guard did not seem the least bit perturbed by Juice’s promise of violence. “My bet is that you will be a little loose from your morning activities, while the kid will be nice and tight.”

“Pretty pair of lips on him too.” They leered at Stiles who tried to conceal the shudder at their predatory gazes.

“Do what you want to me, but you leave him alone.” Juice attempted to negotiate with them.

“Juice,” Stiles tried to stop him. He did not want anyone to hurt Juice over him. “It’s – “

“You can always go back to your cell and we can have our fun with him.” The guard spoke to Juice.

“What’s to stop me from telling someone when I leave?” Stiles finally asked. They couldn’t just believe that he would keep his mouth shut.

“Bad things happen to prisoners all the time.” One of them said. “Ortiz doesn’t have any friends in here. No one to protect him from other crews looking to get even with the Sons of Anarchy.”

“You would kill him and make it look like club retaliation.” He concluded.

“What’s it going to be, Ortiz? You going to fuck his ass or are we?”

“Why do you want him so badly?” Juice questioned, defeat in his voice.

“He looks like someone who needs a lesson on respecting authority figures.” They were out of their minds if they thought this was going to teach him respect. “Make a choice, Ortiz. You are lucky we are allowing you that much.”

Juice took a step forward. He squared his shoulders and clenched his fists, lifted his chin defiantly. He was in his fighting stance, Stiles noticed, and no, that was not a good idea. Juice was going to attempt to fight his way through both guards to get Stiles out of there. He would not win. He was already hurt, and the guards had tasers and batons clipped to their belts. They would beat him to hell or worse.

“Juice,” Stiles grabbed the older man’s hand to pull him back. “It’s okay. You can… we can.”

“No.” Juice shook his head as he turned to face him. “I won’t be made to do that to you for their amusement.”

“It’s you or them.” It was their only choice. “I want it to be with you. I’m sorry. Just not them, please.”

“It’s okay.” Juice pulled him close. “I’m not going to let them touch you. It’ll be you and me.”

“Don’t hate me for asking for it be you.” He whispered, not wanting to force Juice’s hand and ruin everything they had built. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t hate you.”

* * *

 

Jax had no idea what was going on when he walked into Abel’s school. The secretary had refused to give him any information over the phone. Upon entering, he was waved into a room where his mother and John were both waiting with school officials.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” He asked John after taking the time to introduce himself to the vice principal, Mrs. Treal, and the guy from Child Protective Services, Syeed.

“Mrs. Treal called me.” He nodded toward the woman. “So I drove down.”

“Abel asked us to call Sheriff Stilinski.” Treal clarified, which told Jax that whatever had happened did so hours and ago and they had waited for John to get here before calling him or Gemma.

“And why would Abel do that?” Gemma looked accusingly at John.

“I don’t know.”

“Can someone tell me what is going on?” Jax asked. “Where is my son?”

“He’s with his teacher Ms. Harrison. There was an incident earlier,” Treal explained. “We told Abel we would be calling you and he asked us to call his grandfather. He gave us Sheriff Stilinski’s card.”

“Grandfather?” Gemma scoffed.

“I gave Abel my card when I came to Charming with Derek.” John told him, ignoring Gemma. “I told him that if he ever needed anything or did not feel safe, to give me a call and I would help him however I could.”

“You are his grandfather, aren’t you?” The vice principal apparently had not missed his mothers comment.

“N- “

“Yes.” Jax cut him off quickly. “Yes, he is.”

“Okay.” The woman accepted the answer from him. “Let’s bring Abel in.”

“How’s Stiles?” John asked him as Treal stepped out of the room.

“Better.” He tried to soothe the older man’s worry. “I called him on my way here, but it went straight to voicemail. I know he was trying to get visitation with Juice today, he might still be there.”

“I’ll call and check in on him later.”

Their attention turned to the door as the vice principal led in Abel and his teacher.

“Hey, buddy.” Jax crouched in front of his son. “Are you okay?”

“It’s okay, Abel. You can show them.” Ms. Harrison urged.

Abel rolled up his sleeve to reveal a deep gash on his forearm.

“Who did this to you?” Jax demanded an answer as softly as he could.

“Grandma.” Abel admitted.

The room went cold and uncomfortably silent as all eyes found Gemma.

“We have few options in this situation, Mr. Teller.” The social worker spoke up.

“Which are?”

“Jax, can we talk for a minute?” John jerked his head toward the door.

“Sure.” He looked down at his son. “Stay here with your teacher, okay?”

“Okay.”

Jax got a quick confirmation from the officials that it was alright for them to walk out, before he followed John out with Gemma trailing closely behind him.

“They are going to tell you that Gemma cannot be near Abel, until an investigation is launched and she proves that she is not a danger to either of the children." Jax knew the process, some of his club brothers had dealt with CPS before. “It doesn’t matter what you say in your defense, Gemma. Abel told them it was you. They will take that seriously until they find evidence that says differently.”

“I'll take the boys back to my house.” Most of the mess from the break in had been cleaned up. There was even a new front door on the hinges, which he assumed had some supernatural mojo connected to it, he had found it in the trailer of stuff Scott’s boss had sent down days ago.

“If she shows up to see them and social services finds out…”

“So, what do you suggest?” He couldn’t keep Gemma away. She would find a way to see them if she really wanted to.

“Abel is going through something right now. Some of it probably has to do with the violence, but most of it probably has to do with Tara.” John reasoned. “Stiles acted out after Claudia died. He would wander off and get into fights at school. He got better after he spent some time here, away from the memories. Getting away from things could help Abel the way it helped Stiles.”

“You think I should send my son away?” If he were less of a person, he would ask if this had anything to do with Stiles wanting him to give up his boys, but he knew neither John nor Stiles would hurt Abel.

“Abel said Gemma hurt him for a reason. If she didn’t do it, then you need to think about if he did this to himself.” The very thought that Abel would harm himself was horrifying. “He had them call me because he doesn’t feel safe here. He needs to leave, if only for a few weeks.”

“Where the hell would he even go?” If he was going to send his boys out of town for a few days, his first thought would be Stiles, but after the conversation this morning, that was a no-go.

“I can take him for a little while. I could take both boys if you don’t want to separate them. One of Stiles friends can watch Thomas while I am at work, or Melissa can get him in to daycare at the hospital. Abel can be enrolled in one of the schools there until he comes home.” John suggested and Jax could feel his mother’s hackles rise before she spoke.

“Not a chance in hell.” She spat out. “You took my son to Beacon Hills, you are not taking my grandsons too.”

“Then child services is going to pick through your lives with a fine-tooth comb. They will look into everything and everyone you are associated with. Then they are going to place both Abel and Thomas with a foster family when they deem it an unsafe environment for them.” John only softened the blow by not bringing up exactly what CPS would find.

“We can handle a few social workers.” Gemma pointed out. “There are ways to work around them.”

“It’s always murder or a payoff with you, isn’t it?” John shook his head in irritation. “It’s worked out perfectly for you so far.”

“And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Enough.” Jax placed himself between them. “I am trying to trust your opinion here, John, but I had a variation of this conversation with Stiles this morning so I’m a little wary of your intentions. How does letting my boys go make me look better in the eyes of child services?”

“Tell them that you want your children to be safe while you figure out what is going on. Abel will go into grief counseling while he is away. You will make sure your home is safe for him to come back to.” John told him. “They will see that you are making an effort to get your children healthy and create a better environment for them.”

“It will only be for a few weeks.” Jax conceded to the idea. “I’ll see if Wendy will go up as well, to look after the boys while you’re at work. Stiles friends shouldn’t have to give up their summer to babysit. I’ll give you some money for expenses for the time they are with you.”

“You cannot be serious, Jackson.” Gemma gave him an incredulous look.

“Mom,” He put a hand up to stop the oncoming argument. “I need to do what is best for my boys. If Abel is hurting himself and sending him to Beacon Hills for a few weeks is what helps him, then he is going. I am not separating my kids, so Thomas goes with him.”

* * *

 

John watched Jax push past his mother and back into the conference room. He wasn’t the least bit shocked when she whirled on him, anger written all over her face. He knew the minute he brought up taking the boys out of Charming that this was coming.

“What in the hell are you playing at?” She growled. “Trying to take my boys. Again.”

“I did not take Stiles from you, Gemma. You gave him to me without a fight. You could have asked for visitation or given me visitation, but you didn’t.” He was thankful for that every day. “Do not get mad at me because you didn’t realize you wanted him until he was old enough to know better. And you cannot, as a parent, be mad at your son for making a decision that he believes is best for his children.”

“That idea never would have crossed his mind had you not brought it up.”

“It is only for a few weeks.” It wasn’t as if she would never see them again. “Think of it as an opportunity.”

“Opportunity for what?”

“Stiles is not going to come back to Beacon Hills right now, even if they boys will be there. He has unfinished business here in Charming.” She was part of that unfinished business. “I don’t know how long he will be in town, but maybe you should take the time to get to know him, without Abel and Thomas acting as a buffer.”

“I know him.”

“You think you know him, but you don’t. I thought you would have learned that last night.” He was probably going to regret suggesting what he was going to suggest, but he had to think about what was best for his son in the long run. “Take the time to get to know him while you still have it.”

“Why the hell would you want that?” Her eyes scanned his features for something, ulterior motive possibly.

“You ran away from home because of Rose.” She tensed at the name. “You only went back a handful of times to see your dad. I think I’ve visited Nate more than you have.”

“He always had a soft spot for you.” She admitted, a small smile flickering over her lips before she came back to herself and a scowl took its place. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I remember how Rose was after Nathaniel died.” After losing her only son she became angry, belligerent, and emotionally abusive toward her daughter and at moments her husband. “You took the brunt of that.”

“There a point to this?”

“I know you regret not spending more time with Nate.” It probably killed her to keep him in an old folks home. “Do you regret not trying to reconnect with Rose?”

“Not even a little.”

“Okay, fine. Stiles is not you, and you are an entirely different kind of evil than your mother.” They were two different types of devils. “He is never going to call you _mom_ in a way that isn’t sarcastic or ironic. Claudia was his mother. That does not mean he doesn’t care for you.”

“I care about him too.”

“I know that.” It wasn’t hard to miss, no matter how hard she use to hide it. “Stiles loved you before he hated you. That feeling never really went away, no matter how much he may have wanted it to.”

“Yeah, so?” She shifted on her feet awkwardly.

“We both know you are living on borrowed time here.” Her gaze turned steely as she caught on to the meaning behind that. “You may not regret reconnecting with Rose, but, when he is older, Stiles will regret not trying with you, even when he knows all the terrible things you have done.”

She studied him for a moment, like she didn’t trust what he was saying. She must have found some truth where she was looking because she gave him a small nod of acknowledgment, of agreement.

“Hey,” Jax said as he came back through the door. “I have some paperwork to fill out here. I have to get him withdrawn from school and talk more with the social worker. It might take a while, if you have things you need to do...”

“I actually have to get back to the station and finish up a few things, so I can be home tonight.” He wouldn’t have to change many shifts if they could get Wendy to come up to Beacon Hills with the kids. “I don’t really have a lot of kid stuff anymore. I may have a crib and playpen in the basement somewhere, but I think that’s it.”

“I’ll pack some of their stuff up. When I’m done here I’ll go home, talk to Wendy, and start getting things together. I’ll drive them up tonight.”

“That sounds good. Call me if things change.”

* * *

 

He was on his hands and knees, ass lifted in the air as Juice thrust into him from behind. It wasn’t a position they had gotten to choose. It is what _they_ wanted. He wanted to lean down on his elbows, to bury his head in his arms and hide away from what was happening. He had tried that once and they hadn’t liked it. They wanted to see his face, his helplessness.

“Looks like the kids not enjoying himself.” One of the guards stated with disappointment.

Of course he wasn’t enjoying himself. How could he? He wasn’t hard. He was sure the only reason Juice was, was by sheer force of will. Neither of them were gaining any satisfaction from this. What they were doing felt mechanical, as if their bodies were moving on instinct alone.

Normally, the feel of Juice’s cock inside of him would have him moaning, panting, and begging for more. Now, he felt sick. Juice’s fingers were digging painfully into his hips, his nails biting into his skin. It once would have been a sign of pleasure, was now a sign of anger and tension.

Juice had stilled his movements when the guard had spoke. He leaned down and rested his head between Stiles shoulder blades. Beads of sweat were dripping off of him and a silent sob escaped his mouth.

“If you can’t pleasure the boy then we might have to.” Stiles had never felt so weak in his entire life than when he heard the guards laugh and listened to belt buckles clank together.

“Wait! No…” He protested, trying to keep his voice steady. “I can like it. I can.”

“Ssh.” Juice tried to soothe him with a whisper into his ear. “I’m sorry. I can help…”

“It’s okay. Do it.” He choked on the lump in his throat as he felt Juice reach around him, his fingers wrapping around Stiles soft prick, something that was usually more welcome.

“That is exactly what I want to see.” The guard moaned as Stiles cock began to harden under Juice’s ministrations.

He needed this to be done, to be over. He clenched down, pushed back against Juice, hoping to spur him on, to pick up the pace. If they kept up the slow and hesitant movements then it would only extend their time there. The quicker they get off, got the guards off, the quicker this was over.

“Come on.” He urged and Juice seemed to catch the hint.

He hated this. Being forced to do this to each other was changing them, stripping something away from them. It was tainting the bond they shared.

* * *

 

His mother looked gutted as she sat beside Nero at the dining room table. Abel’s accusations of abuse were sitting heavily on her, that much was obvious. The fact that he and Thomas were leaving, if only for a little while, was worrying her the most.

“It is only for a few weeks, Mom. We just need to figure out what is going on in Abel’s head.” He had to think about his sons feelings before he worried about his mother. “Let this crap with child services die down.”

“Does it have to be Beacon Hills?” She asked exasperatedly. “That god damn town already stole one of my boys, now it wants two more.”

“Beacon Hill did not steal anything from you and neither did John.” The years sure did change her tune when it came to how Stiles ended up living somewhere else. “This shit with the kids is temporary. It will be good for them and that is all that matters.”

“It’ll be like a vacation for them, Gem.” Nero attempted to placate her.

“I know it hurts you to be away from them, Mom. I wish it could be different, but I already lost my wife. I will not lose my boys to child services.” He could not afford to take that risk. “This is the easiest way to get out from under some social workers scrutiny.”

“I got most of Thomas’s things ready to go.” Wendy interrupted as she came in, the infant in her arms. “I just need to get my stuff and Abel’s together and then we’re good to go.”

“Okay. Thank you.” He said sincerely. “Thank you for helping out and going up to Beacon Hills.”

“Of course, Jax.” She offered him a small smile. “Do you want to take him so I can go help Abel? I tried putting him down but he’s cranky.”

“I’ll take him.” Gemma stood up and came around the table, holding her arms out expectantly. “I’m not supposed to be around Abel. They never said anything about Thomas.”

Jax gave Wendy a nod and she handed the boy over obediently, before she headed back down the hallway. The same moment Abel’s door opened the front door had also. Stiles walked in looking worse than he had that morning, which was worrisome but not enough to stop Jax’s temper from flaring at the sight of him.

“Where the hell have you been?” He snapped. “I called you two hours ago. I left you messages to meet me at Abel’s school.”

“I was visiting Juice, like I told you I was going to.” The younger man said, stopping before he got any closer to Jax. “What happened with Abel?”

“I don’t care how good your connections is, there is no way you get a two god damn hour visitation.” He would have been lucky to get longer than thirty minutes. “Where the hell were you the rest of the time?”

“I was visiting Juice the whole time.”

“You told me you were going to start keeping me informed and keep your fucking phone on – “

“They don’t let you take your phone in, you know that.”

“I needed you with me at Abel’s school. Maybe you could have gotten the truth out of him and I wouldn’t have had to deal with CPS.” If anyone could get his son talking it was Stiles. “Where were you? I want the truth this time.”

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to hold your damn hand while you were forced to be a father to your son for the first time in god knows how long.” His younger brother snarled at him. “I was a little busy getting my ass fucked by Juice, so the prison guards could cum on our faces.”

* * *

 

Gemma watched Stiles face go from anger to panic when he realized what he had said. Jax took a step toward him, confusion written on his face, in turn, Stiles took a step back, keeping himself out of his brother’s reach.

“Apparently one of your associates finds me to be a bigger threat than you.” Stiles glare hardened. “And that is as much truth as I can handle today. Unless, of course, you want to tell me why someone named Tully has taken a special interest Juice.”

Jax dropped his gaze, locked his jaw, and then looked back up Stiles. He told more with that move than he probably wanted to. It was his tell, his sign of guilt, Gemma knew that and from the looks of things Stiles did to.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Stiles looked disgusted with his brother, an emotion she had never seen him direct at Jax before.

“Stiles – “ Jax started again, taking several steps forward before Gemma moved in front of him, to stop him before he reached his little brother.

“No.” She shook her head, placing a hand on his chest. “Leave him be.”

Her oldest relented. He dropped down into a chair at the table. Gemma turned to Stiles whose face had gone blank, void of anything telling. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her own face placid.

“Take him.” She held Thomas out to Stiles. “Go help Wendy get Abel packed.”

“Packed for what?” He asked, cradling the baby in his arms.

“The boys are going to stay with your dad for a few weeks.” She told him, only to be met with an inquisitive eyebrow raise. “I’ll tell you about it later. Go see Abel.”

“Fine.” He sighed as he left the room.

“Leave your brother alone tonight, Jackson.” She ordered her oldest son.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I? I have to take the boys up to John’s house and he will make himself scarce by the time I get back.” Jax grumbled. “Just figure out what the hell is going on with him.”

“I know what is going on.”

She retreated from the dining room and headed off toward her grandsons room. She saw Wendy at the dresser, putting clothes into a suitcase, as she walked in. Abel was at his toy chest, picking and choosing what he wanted to take with him. Stiles was sitting cross-legged on the bed, Thomas in his lap. Abel must have sensed something was off with his uncle, because he stopped what he was doing and gravitated toward him.

“Uncle,” Abel said cautiously as he approached. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m always okay.” Stiles flashed him a reassuring smile. The boy didn’t seem convinced, but went back to packing his toys anyway.

Gemma stepped further into the room, ignoring Wendy’s questioning look. She went to her son, who had yet to notice her presence. His eyes were cast downward at Thomas, his hands playing with the baby's bare feet. She stood beside the bed and waited for a reaction, but received none. She hooked a finger beneath his chin, bringing his head up so he would meet her eye.

She didn’t know if what he let her see was on purpose, or if he was just too tired to hide it. It was bits of anger and fear, coupled with grief and sadness. It was all the things Stiles rarely let anyone see.

“They’ll pay for their sins, baby.” She vowed, placing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I can promise you that.”

She took his lack of protest as an agreement. She let his head drop, watched him hold Thomas a little tighter. She turned away, making the trip back toward the dining room. She paused long enough to grab her purse before she headed toward the front door.

“Where are you going?” Jax questioned with barely concealed irritation.

“I’m going to pay our sheriff a visit.”

“We don't know that it was Jarry who did this.”

“Yes we do.”

She shut the door behind her with more force than necessary. She climbed into the driver seat of her SUV and was able to put the key in the ignition before the passenger door opened and Nero joined her. He covered her hand with his, preventing her from starting the car.

“What?” She asked. “If you’re trying to stop me – “

“Oh, I know better than that.” He chuckled. “I just want you to calm down before you go.”

“I’m calm.” She told him, grabbing her sunglasses from the visor, and pushing them up her nose. “I am as calm as I am going to get.”

“I get it, Mama. Someone hurt your baby. You have every right to be pissed and looking for blood.” His thumb rubbed circles over the top of her hand. “You can’t kill the sheriff.”

“I’m not going to kill her.” She wanted to, but she wouldn’t. “I just want to talk to her.”

“Talk to her?”

“Yeah, talk to her.”

* * *

 

She left Nero outside the office as she went in. Jarry didn’t spare her a glance as she sat across from her at the desk. She waited her out, let her finish her paperwork, let her think she had the upper hand in whatever she thought was going to happen here.

“What can I do for you Mrs. Morrow?”

“It’s Teller.” She corrected in a knee jerk reaction.

“What do you want?” The sheriff inquired.

“Just wanted to give you a piece of advice.” More of a warning than advice but she was sure Althea would get the idea.

“Which is?” The annoyance in the other woman’s tone was not lost on Gemma.

“You leave my boy alone.”

“I haven’t done anything to Jax.” She feigned innocence.

“You know exactly who I am talking about. Don’t play stupid.” Gemma growled as they both stood from their chairs. “Stay away from Stiles.”

“Or what?” Jarry asked as she came around the desk. “You’ll have Jax kill me?”

“You’re not scared of Jax, so I have no reason to use him against you.” Jax needed the cops on his side. He wouldn’t make a move against her, even with what had happened to his brother. “Jax only hurts himself or the club if he pulls something on you. Stiles is the one that can bring you down without resorting to illegal measures.”

“Oh really?”

“That’s why you keep trying to intimidate him. Stiles isn’t a criminal. His daddy is a cop, and a good one. Stiles knows you are dirty and you have given him plenty of ammo to use against you if he wanted to turn you in.” Having him arrested on false charges and then orchestrating what went down at the prison today were bad calls on her part. “You would think his connection to law enforcement would entice you to play nice.”

“If you have proof that I did anything, feel free to show me.” Jarry challenged.

“I don’t need proof. I don’t have any plans to turn you in.” She stalked forward until they were nose to nose. “Just know this, if you do anything or have anything done to my son again, I will shoot you in the god damn throat.”

* * *

 

Unloading Thomas and Abel’s things was a lot longer process than he anticipated. It was dark out by the time they had gotten it all into John’s house. Abel had been no help at all, having run up the stairs in search of his uncle’s room the minute John had opened the door for them. Once everything was in it’s rightful place John had taken Thomas from Wendy so she could get her things unpacked in the guest room and joined Jax in the kitchen.

“You planning a party?” He gestured to multiple sets of tables and chairs that were set up on the patio in the yard, that he could see from his spot by the backdoor.

“Barbecue this weekend. It will be the last weekend all the kids are in town at the same time before they leave for school. Most of them are spending the rest of summer going on trips with their families or visiting other friends.” John told him as he shifted Thomas on his hip. “My house got nominated for the venue, but I think it had more to do with my grilling skills then the location itself.”

“Stiles hasn’t mentioned anything about it.” If it was the last time his friends would be together for a while then he should be there.

“He’s had other things on his mind. I don’t think he’s coming home to attend it anyway.” He shrugged as if it were no big deal, but Jax could tell he was disappointed.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized. “It’s his last summer before he goes to Berkeley. He should be spending it here, with you and his friends. Instead he’s been stuck in Charming.”

“He is exactly where he feels he needs to be.” John said. “Even if you told him he had to come home, he wouldn’t leave Charming with the way things are. He’s too stubborn.”

“Like his dad.”

“Or his mother.” The older man countered.

“Which one?” He quipped without really thinking about it. John didn’t seem to care about the slip up, only shrugging in response. “Can I get your advice on something?”

“Sure.”

“I’m thinking about telling Abel the truth about Wendy.” He told him while taking a seat at the table. “You have some experience in that area.”

“I never got the chance to tell Stiles the truth. That decision was taken out of my hands.” He didn’t have to say anything, Gemma had done that for him. “Stiles might be a better person to ask. He could give you the child’s perspective.”

“He thinks it’s a shitty idea.” He told Jax as much his first morning in Charming. “Hindsight, had Gemma not done it for you, would you have told Stiles?”

“Yes, when he was old enough to understand.” John looked contemplative. “When Gemma told him he was already confused. It would not have been long before he started asking questions.”

“Confused?”

“He knew you were his brother but I wasn’t your father and Claudia wasn’t your mother. He didn’t understand how that worked.”

“Oh.”

“Abel is at the age where he is making assumptions. He knows Gemma is your mother and that means she is grandma. He knows that Stiles is your brother, but he isn’t sure how because Stiles doesn’t call Gemma mom. He has heard Stiles call me dad, and knowing that he is your brother, he assumes that means that I am your dad too, because no one has told him differently. That is why he told the school I was his grandfather, because he thinks that is what I am to him.” John explained. “He’s too young to understand that his family structure is more complicated than that.”

“Complicated is one word for it.” He could see how Abel could make certain deductions based on the information he had, but that didn’t really explain all of what happened today. ”What if Abel blamed Gemma today, because he thought she was trying to take Tara’s place?”

“That is even more of a reason not to tell him. If you told him that Wendy is his mother, he is going to think you are saying that Tara was never his mother. Or he could think you are lying and that she’s another replacement for Tara. He could try and push her out.”

“I just want him to know that he still has a mother.” Abel needed a mother, and Wendy had been acting as such as of late.

“You asked for my opinion, as someone who has seen the damage this kind of thing causes, well here it is, do not tell him yet.” John advised. “Wait until he is old enough to really understand or at least until he has had time to grieve for the mother he just lost.”

“I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

“Then be prepared to deal with the fallout.”

* * *

 

She didn’t expect Stiles to still be at her house when she returned. His things were back Jax’s, she thought he would head back there with the boys gone. The jeep in the driveway and the shower running told her differently though.

“I’m gonna make some tea, you want some?” Nero asked as he pulled out the kettle.

“Sure, thanks.”

She left him in the kitchen and made her way into the laundry room. She grabbed a pair or sweats and a hoodie that Jax had left behind. She knocked briefly on the bathroom door before entering, cautious not to startle him in the steam-filled room.

“I didn’t know if you had any clean clothes, so I brought you some of Jax’s.”

“Thank you.” Came the soft reply from behind the curtain.

“I’ll leave them here on the counter for you.”

She walked out of the room feeling heavier than before. She all but collapsed onto the sofa, taking a deep breath. She barely registered Nero putting a mug on the coffee table in front of her, before sitting in the armchair on the other side of the room. She closed her eyes, tried to push away the memories of a visit with Clay, of guards and the threats they made.

The sound of a door creaking open pulled her out of her head. She looked up to see Stiles step out of the bathroom. He stood in the hallway, swimming in his brothers clothes, looking much younger than his eighteen years. He seemed lost, like he had no idea how he got there or where he was supposed to go next.

“Come sit down, sweetheart.”

She anticipated him walking the other way, to go hide out in the guest room. Instead, he came into the living room, bypassing the loveseat to sit beside her on the couch. He sat silently, his head hung low, nails clutching the fabric of his burrowed pants.

“Awful shit that happened today, sweetheart.” She reached out to take one of his hands in hers. “No one deserves that. No one.”

He lifted his gaze to meet hers, then nodded and looked away again. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t seeing anything. He was stuck in that place, in that room, with Juice and the guards and he couldn’t get out. Every emotion he hid beneath a smile and sarcasm was written all over his face, whether he realized it or not.

Stiles was the one who always had the ability to keep himself in check. In the worst situations Stiles was solid. He didn’t let the rage or the sadness blind him the way Jax did, the way she did at times. Stiles kept himself in control by keeping busy, but with no kids or crisis to focus on at the moment, he was forced to deal with the darkness of his mind, unless someone could pull him out.

“Gotta let it go, baby.” She whispered to him. “It’ll eat you up and tear you apart if you let it.”

“It’s not only about me. It’s not only about what the guards did to us.” He said hoarsely. “It’s about what they said, what they implied was happening to Juice.”

“Things happen inside – “

“That doesn’t make it okay.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I gave him to Jax and the club knowing that jail is where he was headed.”

“You did not just hand him over. He made that decision.”

“It doesn’t matter. What happens to him inside, that’s on me.”

“No, it ain’t.” That was a dangerous way to think. It was the kind of thinking that destroyed a person. “Whatever is happening to Juice is horrible, but it is not your fault and there is nothing you can do about it either. He has been inside before. He knew what he was walking in to.”

“He just wants his family back. That is the only reason he is in there.”

“Nothing we can do to help him right now, sweetheart.” Stiles folded in on himself at that. “The only thing you can do tonight is figure out how you move on from today.”

“I’m fine.”

“I went and saw Clay in prison a few months ago. He had some information to pass on, and scheduled a conjugal to do it.” He looked up at her again as she spoke. “I tried to leave after we talked. Two guards came in, stopped me from going anywhere. I think you know what happened next.”

“It was just supposed to be a regular visit. Jarry saw me there and I was being a smart ass as usual. I must have pissed her off good this time, because she got them change my visit.” He sniffled. “I only went there to tell Juice that Bobby was gone, but the guards interrupted us before I could.”

“What they had you and Juice do to each other, it’s a violation, sweetheart.” She cupped his cheeks in her hands. “It’s okay to feel that. You need to. You cannot let it sit and fester. You gotta go through the motions now, so you can be okay tomorrow.”

He leaned into her touch for a moment before pulling away. She thought he would get up and walk off, to deal with it privately. Instead, he maneuvered himself until he was curled up on the couch, his head resting on her thigh. It startled her, he hadn’t sought her out for affection since he was a toddler. Her instincts kicked in once he began to shake. She ran her fingers through his hair with one hand and rubbed his back with the other.

“You are safe now, baby.”

* * *

 

“Daddy?” His sons voice called him as he started to leave the room.

“Yeah?” He came to sit beside Abel on the bed.

“Is Wendy my first mommy ‘cause I came out of her tummy?”

“Yeah. That’s right.” Abel seemed to understand a lot better than everyone thought he would.

“So, is that why grandma killed my other mommy? So my first mommy could be here with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: [You Have to Trust Me](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/111224817454/mama-gemma-au-you-have-to-trust-me-22-chapter), [You Betrayed Me](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/111702638144/mama-gemma-au-you-betrayed-me-23-chapter-11), [Mr. Mayhem](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/111806861834/mama-gemma-au-mr-mayhem-24-chapter-11).  
> [TUMBLR](http://www.stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/)  
> [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/user/SandM1827/)  
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos, they are greatly appreciated.


	11. If This is to End in Fire, Then We Should All Burn Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd.  
> Chapter title from I See Fire by Ed Sheeran.  
> Gif Sets: [You Betrayed Me](http://stilinski-ortiztumblr.com/post/111702638144/mama-gemma-au-you-betrayed-me-23-chapter-11), [Mr. Mayhem](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/111806861834/mama-gemma-au-mr-mayhem-24-chapter-11), [Jail Break](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/112098104004/mama-gemma-au-i-dont-have-a-plan-to-break-you), [Trust Me](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/111224817454/mama-gemma-au-you-have-to-trust-me-22-chapter).
> 
> There is actual dialogue from 7x11 of SOA during this chapter, I've used very small bits, a line or two, in previous chapters, but its heavier in this one. I did not use every bit from that scene because I see it as a form of plagiarism.

He woke up alone, in contrast to how he had fallen asleep with his head resting on Gemma’s lap. Now there was a soft pillow beneath his head and a fleece blanket draped over him. He sat up slowly, working out the kinks in his muscles as he went. He lifted a hand to run fingers through his tangled hair. A soft yawn escaped his lips as he shook himself out, trying to banish the raw feelings yesterday’s events left him with.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Stiles looked up to see Gemma watching him from the kitchen doorway.

“Morning.” He stood from the couch and ambled into the other room to join her. “Sorry about last night.”

He was mildly embarrassed by his behavior. If he was being honest with himself, the way he had gone off on his brother and disclosed what had happened at the prison, made him feel far worse than seeking comfort from Gemma. He should have been more in control of himself. If he hadn’t still felt so tense and helpless he never would have lashed out at the first person who pushed, which just happened to be Jax.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” She assured him with a gentle smile, which probably would have unsettled him if not for the previous night.

“Coffee?” Nero held out a mug to him.

“Sure.” He took the proffered cup and turned back to Gem. “Did I leave any clothes here by chance?”

“Tired of looking like a twelve year old in hand-me-downs?” He couldn’t nod fast enough, causing her to chuckle. “I think there’s a pair of your pants in the basket on the loveseat. I’ll see about a shirt.”

He retreated into the bathroom to change once he retrieved his pants from the bottom of the wicker basket. He stripped out of the borrowed sweats and dropped them into the hamper, before stepping into his own jeans and returning to the kitchen.

“Found you a shirt, baby.” Gemma held up a dark blue shirt with long sleeves. “I’m not sure if it belongs to you or if one of Jax’s just shrunk in the wash.”

“As long as if fits it doesn’t matter.” He said as he pulled off the SONS sweater he had slept in and reached for the other, only to have her yank it away from him. “Um… what the hell?”

“That’s pretty.” Her eyes trailed the chain around his neck, stopping only when they found what was hanging from it.

“Did Jax tell you to ask me about my necklace?” He had been wearing it for days and no one had said a word about it, so he didn’t understand the sudden interest they had in it now.

“No, Jax didn’t tell me to do anything. It’s the first time I’ve seen it.” It wasn’t a stretch to think she hadn’t caught a glimpse of it before. He tried his best to keep it hidden beneath his usual layers of shirts. “Your daddy still wears his and he’s sentimental enough to bury Claudia with hers. The ones you have look too new to be family heirlooms anyway.”

“They are new.” The chain and the pieces of jewelry dangling from it were straight from the store. “That is why it’s all so shiny.”

“Those are wedding rings, mano.” Nero pointed out.

“Yep.” He confirmed, snatching the shirt from Gemma and pulling it over his head, hiding the objects they were so fascinated by.

“Does Jax know?” Gemma questioned. “Does your father know?”

“No and yes.” He answered, then thanked whatever higher power there was when his cellphone rang, effectively putting an end to the line of questioning. “Hello?”

 _“You need to keep an eye on Jax.”_ His dad said in greeting.

“What happened?” If his father was beginning a conversation like that, then something had to have gone wrong.

 _“I’m not sure.”_ Well, that was helpful. _“He stayed with Abel in your room all night. This morning Wendy admitted that she, Unser, and Gemma were helping Juice hide.”_

“Why would she do that?”

 _“Because last night Jax told Abel that Wendy was his biological mother.”_ Stiles barely resisted the urge to bang his head against the nearest hard surface. _“She didn’t want there to be any secrets between them.”_

“Of course she didn’t. The better option was to throw everyone else under the bus without giving them a heads up first.”

 _“Jax seemed off when he left this morning, so keep your eyes open.”_ His father urged. _“And be careful, please.”_

“Yeah, I’ll do my best.” He let out a huff of breath. “I’ll check in when I get the chance, Dad. Love you.”

_“Love you too, son.”_

“What’s wrong?” Gemma asked as he hung up the phone.

“My brother. Wendy. Take your pick.” He said with exasperation heavy in his tone. “Jax told Abel the truth about Wendy.”

“Christ.” She shook her head. “You should go check on the boys today.”

“My dad can handle whatever meltdown this revelation causes.” His dad had plenty of experience in that area. Stiles had been a holy terror after learning the truth about Gemma. “If I can find the time to go up there today, I will, but I have other things to take care of.”

He had to begin tying up loose ends and Lt. Jarry was at the top of his list. He knew he would need more evidence then just his word if he wanted Patterson to do anything about her. Today was the day to gather that evidence.

With that in mind, he shot off a quick text message to the person he put in charge of gathering what they could on the local sheriff. He set a meeting up for later, at a time he thought they would both be free. He hoped there would be something, physical evidence, which proved Jarry’s badge was tarnished.

“What is more important than your nephew’s wellbeing?”

“Charming’s Sheriff.”

“You really think it’s a good idea to stir shit up with her after what she did?” Nero looked at him with concern.

“Jarry’s got to go.” He wasn’t going to back down, especially after yesterday.

“You get that shit-starter gene from me.” Gemma quipped before Stiles phone rang again. “You are popular this morning.”

“Apparently.” Jax’s name lit up his caller ID this time, it sent a pang of nervousness through him, but he accepted the call anyway. “Hey.”

 _“Meet me at county at eleven.”_ The gruff voice of his brother ordered him.

“Why?” He had no desire to step one foot anywhere near the prison again unless Juice was leaving with him.

_“I’m going to see Juice and I want you to be there.”_

“Again, I ask why?”

 _“Just meet me there.”_ Jax ended the call before Stiles could say anything more.

“Shit.” There could not be a good reason for Jax to want him at county with Juice. “This is going to be bad. This is going to be very, very bad.”

* * *

Jax hadn’t spoken a single word to him since they met outside the county jail. Stiles followed him inside, listened to him speak to a guard and hand over some cash, before they were led into the room that looked like it was normally used for interrogation, rather than visitation. He and Jax both took chairs on one side of the metal table, while a guard brought in a prisoner.

Stiles didn’t recognize the older man, but his greasy hair and certain visible tattoo’s set off alarm bells in his head. Jax and the guy didn’t acknowledge him as they began to speak. They talked as if they were alone in the room. When the pale man brought up a ‘pretty Puerto Rican’ Stiles began to wonder who this man was and how exactly he knew Juice. His interest peaked further when a flip phone was placed on the table and they started talking about something Juice had done that morning. Jax seemed upset, not pleased, by Juice doing what he had gone inside to do.

“What about Ortiz?” The man said after further discussion. “Does that pay off his sins?”

“I’m not sure.”

The door opened a moment later. The prisoner Jax had been talking to was walked to the door, as another guard led Juice in.

“I’ll see you later, baby.” His voice was loaded with innuendo directed at Juice, which told Stiles exactly who he was.

“You’re Tully.” He blurted out, the first thing he had said since he arrived.

Tully’s gaze swung his way, an intrigued look on his face. Juice stepped in front of him, blocking his view of Stiles. His posture was rigid, if Stiles could see his face he was sure it would be an expression of warning written on his features.

“Ooh boy, that is the most fire I’ve seen out of you yet, sweetheart. I’ll remember that for later.” Tully sent him a saucy wink over Juice’s shoulder before being taken away by the guards.

Juice kept his back to them until the door was closed, and then took the empty seat across from them.

“I didn’t think you would come back.” Juice addressed him, the _I hoped you wouldn’t_ was left unsaid.

“Jax thought I should be here.”

“Oh.” Juice turned his attention to Jax, and again Stiles was forgotten, or would have been if Juice did not keep side-eyeing him.

He listened more intently to the conversation between them than he had to the one between Jax and Tully. Juice told Jax about Lin, about Jury being innocent and someone named Barosky being dirty. Jax didn’t seem interested in any of it, which was a little worrying.

“I did everything you asked, Jax.” He sounded so hopeful, like everything would be okay now.

“I found out that Gemma was helping you hide.” Jax told Juice in response. “The Chinese guy she ID’d… he was in Vegas the night Tara was murdered. Why would you go to my mom to hide from the club? Did she owe you a favor?”

He knew, Stiles realized suddenly. Jax knew what had really happened to Tara. It was the only explanation for all of this. He fought to stay calm, not to react. Jax couldn’t know everything, that’s why they were here.

“We just kind of found each other.” Juice admitted, but it was obvious that was not a good enough answer for Jax.

“Yesterday, my five year old son cut his own arm. Deep gashes. And then he told his teacher that it was Gemma that did it.”

He and Juice listened as Jax explained what had gone on the day before. He described the meeting with child services and his decision to allow the boys to spend the summer in Beacon Hills with Stiles dad. He went on to tell them about why he gave Abel the truth about Wendy, which Stiles did not support but understood. Then Jax dropped a much bigger bomb.

“When I put him to bed he asked me if Gemma had killed Tara to make room for Wendy.”

Abel needed a reason for Gemma’s assault on Tara, to make sense of it all in his mind. Of course he would look to his father for answers. Why shouldn’t he? Stiles had promised his nephew he would tell Jax about what Gemma had done, and Stiles had tried but Abel wasn’t aware that he had been unsuccessful.

Juice’s eyes flickered back and forth between he and his brother as Jax continued on. Jax became emotional as he relayed his fears for Abel’s mental health, the possibility that his son could be delusional, that maybe it went deeper than a child acting out. The most worrying fear being that Abel was not making any of it up, but that Gemma really had been the one to kill Tara.

“I need the truth. Somehow, I know you’re the one who can give it to me.”

“I’m really sorry about Abel.” Juice said sincerely.

“Is it true?” Jax asked in desperation.

“I went to your house that night.” Juice started.

Even Stiles hadn’t heard the full story that Juice was telling now. It was the first time he heard why Juice had gone to Jax’s house at all. His brother lost more of his composure as they listened to Juice’s firsthand account of hearing a loud crash, rushing into the house with Roosevelt, and the horror they found.

“Tara was dead. The place was trashed. She was must have gotten into a brawl with Gemma.” Whatever composure Jax had left was lost as he dropped his head in grief. “Your mom was on the floor, freaked out, covered in blood.”

Jax hid his face in his hands as Juice went on. He told them about killing Eli, to keep him from calling it in and arresting Gemma. He explained that he put the blame on the Chinese because he did not want it to land on the Mayans or Nero.

“Bobby’s dead.” Jax said after lifting his head. The agonizing sadness that had taken up residence on his face was wiped away and replaced by pure anger.

“That’s what I came to tell you yesterday.” Stiles whispered.

“Who did it?”

“Marks. Retaliation for going after Lin.” The heartbreak of loss was clearly visible on Juice’s face as Jax told him exactly what August had done to Bobby. “They cut out his eye. They cut off his fingers. Then they shot him right in front of me.”

“Oh, God, Jax, I’m – “

“Don’t say you’re sorry!” Jax slammed a palm down on the table, causing both he and Juice to flinch. “Don’t say anything. Thank you for telling me the truth.”

Juice gave him a barely noticeable nod, but said nothing further. He looked defeated, as if he knew what was going to come out of Jax’s mouth next. Perhaps he did. Maybe Stiles did too, but he was in no way prepared for the words to leave his brothers mouth.

“I’ll make sure it’s quick.”

Stiles froze. He couldn’t breathe as he brother stood. He looked at Juice, who’s tears were flowing freely now. He could barely comprehend what Jax had just said, but he knew he could not let it happen.

“No.” He shook his head, it was possible his entire body was shaking but he felt disconnected from it.

“Stiles – “

“No.”

“Stiles,” Juice called for him again. “It’s okay.

“It’s not.” None of it was okay.

“It’s okay. I promise.” He could see that Juice was trying to tell him something, that this was more than a simple reassurance, but Stiles didn’t understand.

“Let’s go, Stiles.” Jax ordered while two guards entered the room.

“No. Damn it! We are not… you can’t do this.” Panic rose in his chest as the burly men got closer and closer to the table.

“Up, Ortiz.” One of the guards grunted and pulled Juice from his chair.

“Stop!” Stiles jumped out of his seat and reached for the guard without really thinking. Strong arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him backward before he could make contact with the men accosting Juice.

“Stiles, don’t!” Juice yelled at him. “It’s okay.”

“Enough, Stiles.” Jax growled into his ear, all the while putting more distance between them and Juice.

“Juice…” He said pitifully as the guards took places on each side of him.

“It’s okay.” Juice vowed one last time, before he was taken out of the room.

“You promised if he did what you said then he would get to live.” Stiles voice quivered as he spoke to his brother. “You promised me you wouldn’t kill him.”

“I didn’t have the full story then, did I?” His blood ran cold at his brothers words.

“I want the table.”

“What?” Jax released Stiles from his grip.

“I have some things to tell you and I want to do it with a full table.” If he was going to say what he had to say then he would do it in front of SAMCRO. He would tell them together, so no one could twist his words into lies later. “They vote when I’m done.”

“You’re not a member. It doesn’t work that way.”

“You just sanctioned a member’s death without a vote. We do this the clubs way. They decide my fate, the way they should have decided his.”

* * *

The other Sons were waiting for them at the table when they arrived. Stiles took the same seat he had the last time he joined them there. He was beside Chibs in Juice’s old seat. Jax took his time sitting at the head of the table, while they both willfully ignored the baffled looks coming from the members surrounding them.

Stiles was deathly calm in a way he hadn’t felt before, even when Kate had her claws around his nephews throat. He was thankful for it. He needed that level of calm for what he was going to do. He needed to be numb for this.

“What’s going on, boys?” Chibs broke the silence that had fallen over the room.

“Stiles has something to say.” Jax leaned back in his chair, looking as if he did not have a care in the world, like he hadn’t just ordered the death of someone they both loved.

“Put your gun on the table.” Stiles ordered his brother.

“Why?”

“You might have to use it.” He replied simply. “Put it on the table.”

“What do you think is going to happen here, Stiles?” Jax questioned as he complied, placing the weapon above the reaper on the table.

“I’m going to confess.” It was time he did. “When I’m finished, if my sins against you are not enough to put a bullet in my skull, then you put a halt on Juice’s execution.”

“Juice’s execution? He didn’t finish off Lin?” Tig asked.

“This is not a negotiation. Juice is done.” Jax ignored his questioning members. “You can’t tell me anything that is going to change that.”

“If I get to leave, then so does he.”

“He is not leaving county alive.” Jax said more firmly this time. “His lies are why Bobby is dead.”

“Bobby is dead because you needed revenge and he was stupid enough to help you get it. You knew Marks didn’t want you to touch Lin, but you went after him anyway.” Placing all of the blame on someone else was easier than dealing with your own guilt. “You knew there would be consequences and you didn’t care.”

“If Juice hadn’t covered up my wife’s murder then I never would have started a war with Lin.”

“If Gemma hadn’t killed Tara then he wouldn’t have had to cover anything up.” He countered, while the Sons sat back in stunned silence at the admission of what their matriarch had done. “Don’t put all of this on Juice when Gemma could have come clean at any time. She could have said something after the explosion at Scoops or after Diosa, but she didn’t. She cared more about protecting herself then keeping people alive. Juice was gone, he didn’t see all of the damage that lie caused, but she did. She watched it like a god damn car wreck.”

“So did you.” Jax snapped. “You did not seem even a little shocked by what Juice had to say. You knew everything and you didn’t say anything.”

“You’re right. I knew. I looked at the crime scene photos, I saw the brutality, and I knew it had to be Gemma. Juice confirmed it for me.” The same way he had confirmed it for Jax today.

“And you chose to keep that from me.” His brother sent an ugly sneer his way.

“You would have killed her on the spot and it would have destroyed you. I wanted to put that off as long as I could.” There would be no coming back from the darkness if Jax killed his own mother. “I was always going to tell you, but it had to be the right time. I had to put things in order first.”

“What does that mean? Why would you help Gemma at all?” Jax asked him. “Was that part of the understanding you two had? You keep her secrets and she keeps yours?”

“Yeah, I guess that was part of it.”

“What does she have on you that is so terrible, that you would save her life?” Compared to the full spectrum of what he had done, Gemma had very little on him.

“I’m going to tell you, and then you’ll have a vote to decide whether I live or die.” He held up a hand to stop any protests that would arise. “Juice lives if I do.”

“No.” Jax told him. “I already told you, that is not how this works.”

“Give me a club vote. You didn’t give them a chance to vote on Juice’s life,” Which was against club rules. Mayhem required all members’ agreement. “Let them vote on mine instead. They will want to after they hear everything I have to say.”

“Fine, you can have your vote.” His brother gave in. “Tell me what Gemma has on you.”

“She has documents from Tara’s lawyer that prove I was helping her.” It didn’t sound like a huge offense, but what those documents said could sever the bond he and Jax shared permanently. “If I told you what she had done, she would have outed me. I wasn’t ready for that. I was not ready for you to hate me. Now you know what she did and I don’t care how you feel about me anymore.”

“What the fuck were you doing with my wife?”

“In the beginning, it was just talking. We discussed getting you all out, how to convince you that your family was safer away from Charming and the club. It was working. You were going to go. You were going to leave.” Then it all fell apart. “Then you became President and lost Opie. Losing Ope should have pushed you away from the club, but instead it cemented your place in it. And when Tara pushed you for the will you resisted.”

“I wasn’t comfortable with the part that said my sons would go to Wendy.” Jax’s argument was invalid now given how much leeway the woman had been allowed with the boys since Tara’s death. “Of course I wasn’t going to sign it.”

“You don’t seem to mind her around them now.” Stiles bit out, before getting back on track. “When Tara got arrested things changed. The time for talking was over. We had to act without you being part of the equation.”

“What does that mean?”

“You might have agreed to let them go, you were going to once before, but Gemma would have talked you out of it. She never would have let them go. The boys could never leave with Gemma in the way.” In the end, she had used deadly force to keep them close. “I visited Tara while she was locked up. I gave her an idea, a fake pregnancy that would end in a miscarriage caused by Gemma. Did you honestly think Tara could come up with something that cruel?”

“I never thought my own brother could.”

“An act so heinous was the only way to put distance between Gemma and the kids.” It would have put distance between she and Jax as well. “It would have proved she was a danger to them and with the help of the restraining order, it would have kept her from getting custody if anything were to happen to Tara.”

“That still left me. If something happened to Tara,” Like if she was murdered. “I would get custody of my boys.”

“Which is where I came in.” Jax tensed, as if he was preparing himself for a physical blow. “Tara was in the process of filing for divorce. She was requesting full custody of the boys with my statement to back her.”

“What statement?”

“I gave the attorney a signed statement saying that you were an absent father. I wrote about all the times your children were put in harm’s way because of your lifestyle.” Not one word of it had been a lie, not one.

“You son of a bitch.” Jax growled. “You were going to take my boys from me. You were helping my wife take my children.”

“You love this club more than your wife and children. The Sons of Anarchy always came first for you. You would always choose SAMCRO over your family.” His brother would deny it to his dying day but it was the truth. “And you were never going to let those boys leave Charming, with Tara or anyone else, not after you found out she lied to you about the miscarriage.”

“You’re damn right about that.” Jax barked, before apparently remembering that his children were no longer in Charming. “Did you have Abel hurt himself to push me into letting your dad take them?”

“No. I would never do that.” Thought he doubted anyone would believe him at this point. “If I was desperate to get them out, I had another way.”

“Which was?”

“I never believed Tara would get them out.” It didn’t matter what deals she tried to make, she wouldn’t have gone through with it. “All it was going to take were a few pretty promises from you and she would have stayed. I saw that. So, I had a backup plan.”

“Tell me.”

“I was going to apply for custody if Tara couldn’t follow through.”

“No social worker would hand over custody to an eighteen year old when the boys had two parents fully capable of taking care of them.” It would have been a tough fight to win, but in the end, he was sure he would have.

Stiles braced himself, because this would be the part that was going to be hard for Jax to hear, for the club to hear. This was the moment they learned just how far he would go and who he was willing to turn on. It would not matter how the vote went down, after this they would never look at him the same way they once had. He would never be their brother again.

“There was another statement, one I hadn’t given Tara’s lawyer. It was a very detailed list of crimes that I knew Gemma and Tara committed. Crimes that you, and by proxy the club, had committed.” It was full of things they hadn’t felt the need to keep from him, because they never believed he would use it against them. “It would be easy for me to get custody when you were all in jail.”

“You were going to send your family to prison – “

“I would send _every_ member of the Sons of Anarchy to prison if it meant freeing those boys from this life. I would sell every one of you out to keep Thomas and Abel from becoming you, or Clay, or Gemma, or a dead body rotting in the ground like their mother.” It was a harsh remark, but brutal honesty was the only way to get through to Jax. “Can you really blame me, after everything that has happened, for being willing to go to extremes?”

“Yes, I can.”

“How many members have been killed in the last few years alone? How many old ladies? How many innocent bystanders? How many children have paid for the sins of their fathers?” He directed that last one at Tig, remembering Dawn’s violent death. “How many times have your kids been a step away from death? What I did was to ensure that Abel and Thomas were going to be safe. It was too late to save you and Tara, but not them.”

“You betrayed me.” Jax snarled viciously.

“I did what I had to do.” He said simply. “I would do it all again if it protected those boys.”

“Who has the copy of your statement? If Tara’s lawyer doesn’t have it someone must.”

“My lawyer.” He was not stupid enough to give them any names. “They won’t do anything with it unless I give them the go ahead.”

“Is this the part where you tell me that if I try to take my children from your dad’s house, that you will make sure I’m put away for a very long time?” Jax questioned.

“No.” He didn’t need to turn that list over to the authorities anymore. “I know what you are going to do to Gemma when you find her. You won’t make it through that. The boys are already mine.”

“For Juice then?” He could bargain for Juice with it, but it was a double-edged sword if used that way.

“I give that list to the cops then he doesn’t get out either.” He did say that _every_ Son would be sold down the river with that statement. “That’s all of it, Jax. Those are my sins, my crimes against you and your club.”

“You filthy traitor.” Jax spit at him, but Stiles could see the hurt in his eyes, that he was trying hard to conceal.

“I asked for a club vote, because you denied Juice that option.” He hoped the club still might agree to let Juice walk, but in his heart, he knew that would not happen. “Every decision he made against the club was made under duress. He didn’t want to do any of it. But, me? I knew exactly what I was doing.”

“This isn’t about Juice, it is about you.” Jax looked away from him and to his other brothers. “All in favor of Stiles Stilinski meeting Mr. Mayhem…”

Jax looked to Chibs first. The Scot dropped his gaze to the reaper carving. He sighed deeply, almost a sob if Stiles heard correctly. The pain was visible on his face, as if Stiles had slapped it there with the palm of his hand. His confession likely hit Chibs the way it had Jax, suddenly and unexpectedly. He did not say a word, didn’t nod or shake his head, so the table moved on without him.

“Yay.”

“Yay.” Montez echoed Quinn’s affirmation.

“Yes.” Rat answered hesitantly and brought the vote to Tig.

He and Tig were never close, not like Stiles was with other members, but they had known each other Stiles’ entire life. Tig had watched him grow up, saw more of his childhood then Fawn or Dawn’s. And he knew what it was like to lose a child to this life, so perhaps his hesitance was because he understood why Stiles had been willing to turn them in. Still, he expected a _yes_ vote from him as well, but received nothing but silence.

“Yay.” Happy declared in a flat tone. Stiles never had any doubts as to what the older man’s vote would be. Happy was just hardwired that way. Betrayal meant death in his eyes.

There were three votes that hadn’t yet been cast. Jax, who had picked up the gavel, prepared to swing it downward in a sign of Stiles impending death, had remained quiet throughout the ordeal. He kept his head down, waiting for the others to finish before giving his own vote. Tig looked to Chibs, as if he held the answer and the Scot did not let them down.

“No.” His voice shook as he spoke. “No.”

“Mayhem vote has to be unanimous.” Tig pointed out, seeming relieved that he no longer had the weight of Stiles life on his shoulders.

Jax offered him a considering look as he set the gavel aside. He stood from his seat slowly, but forcefully enough to send his chair ricocheting against the wall. No one else moved as Jax stalked around the table, stopping only when he reached Stiles.

“Get up.” His brother commanded. Stiles pushed out of his chair, getting to his feet, standing tall as he faced his brother head on.

He hated the things he had to do, hated hurting his brother and the people he considered family, but he didn’t have it in him to regret most of the choices he made. He would live with them and the guilt they came with and he would take the punishment without complaint.

“Your confession was pointless.” Jax told him. “You gave us your truth in a stupid attempt to save the life of a rat. If you had just kept your mouth shut, I wouldn’t want to put two rounds into the back of your head.”

“Do what you have to do.” He had walked into the room with the knowledge that he might not walk out.

“Jax,” Chibs got up, made like he would put an end to this if he had to. “Mayhem has to be unanimous.”

“I’m not going to kill him.” Jax assured the Scot. “He knew that before we sat down at the table.”

“No, I didn’t.” He told his brother. “I never know what you’re going to do. I told Gemma, when she had a gun to my head, that if anyone would kill me for what I had done, it would be you.”

“No mayhem.” Jax glared at him. “But I can’t just let you leave here, not after learning what you would do to my family.”

“I know.” He moved his arms outward, to show that he had no weapons on him. “I won’t stop you.”

“I didn’t think you would.”

He took the first hit and second before he hit the floor. He did not curl his legs up to protect his middle. He didn’t move his arms to cover his head from an oncoming blow. He didn’t try to defend himself when Jax straddled his body and continued to aim for the delicate skin of his face. He did not do anything but take the punishment he had earned. He might be liar and traitor in his brother’s eyes now but he was not going to be a coward.

* * *

He recognized a pattern of his time in Charming. There was a day or so of normalcy, then he would get his ass kicked, there would be a small reprieve, then the cycle started all over again. There always seemed to be a time, every few days, that he would spend nursing his wounds, whether they were physical or emotional.

He was seeing the physical ramifications now. He had tucked himself into the tiny bathroom of Juice’s house and spread the contents of the first aid kit across the counter. He was in the process of soaking a cotton ball with peroxide when an abrupt knock on the front door startled him.

He reached for his gun on instinct, wondering which SAMCRO member had shown up to finish what Jax couldn’t. He doubted it would be Chibs, his vote was the only one that kept him alive. Tig and the new transfers were also unlikely. Rat was too green to pull the trigger on a fellow member’s brother. If it was anyone it would be Happy.

He looked through the peephole when he made it to the door, to see if his assumptions were correct. They were not. There was no Son waiting on the porch to take him out. No, it was someone entirely different.

“Braeden,” He greeted her with the minimum amount of suspicion he could muster as he opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

“You texted me this morning and asked me to meet you here, so we can go over some stuff.” She said with barely concealed concern.

“I did?” He racked his brain until he pulled up a vague recollection of sending a message to her that morning while he was still at Gemma’s. “Right, yeah. I remember.”

He moved from entryway, allowing her inside. He did a quick scan of the front yard, making sure no one was waiting out there, like one of the Sons. He wasn’t paranoid, just on high alert. He dead bolted the door after shutting it firmly, not that it would keep anyone out if they really wanted in. He felt comfortable enough with the fact that he was safe for the time being, that he left his gun the table by the coat rack before leading Braeden into the living room.

“You can sit wherever you want.” He gestured to the couch and recliner.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” She asked as she dropped her messenger bag onto the coffee table.

“In the bathroom.” He pointed toward the open door and watched her disappear down the hall.

He settled down on the couch as he listened to her rustle around with the supplies he had scattered about. He was leaned back, head rested against the cushions, when she came back in.

“What happened?” She questioned, setting the kit down beside her bag.

“Sibling rivalry.” He flinched at the sting of peroxide against the open wound above his brow. “I didn’t take you for a mother hen.”

“I’m not usually, but you did a piss-poor job of cleaning yourself up.” She retorted while she wiped away freshly shed blood. “You must have really pissed off your brother for him to have done this.”

“I got off easy.” A black eye, a cut caused by Jax’s rings on his forehead, and a swollen jaw, were relatively small prices to pay given his confession.

Jax hadn’t really wanted to hurt him. If he had, Stiles would have been beaten half to death. His brother held back, showed a level of control Stiles wasn’t aware he had. Jax could have put him in the ground, regardless of how the vote turned out, but he didn’t. Jax did not want to seriously injure him, but he had to do something to release that anger, to show Stiles what he did would not be forgiven.

“Did you bring me anything good?” He asked, changing the subject while she placed a bandage over the gash on his head.

“I have two USB sticks for you.” She sat down next to him on the sofa and rummaged through her messenger bag until she produced both. “One is for you and the other is for the DA.”

“What’s on them?”

“Bank statement and credit card purchases. It is proof that she is spending more than she earns. She has multiple accounts under different names in an attempt to hide her extra income.” It was a surprise that she tried to hide it at all. “There is also video, from a security camera, of a parking garage romp between she and one of your biker friends.”

“This is great. Thank you.” He took the drives from her. “I can’t pay you right now, but when I get the money I will.”

“Your old man took care of it. You don’t owe me anything.”

“What?”

“Juice overheard me talking to you on the phone the afternoon before you picked him up.” He neglected to mention that to Stiles. If he knew Stiles was going to attempt to take down the Sheriff, he would have given him an earful about how dangerously stupid that was. “He didn’t ask me what I was doing, but he did pay me for my services on your behalf.”

“How? Juice doesn’t have that kind of money.” He didn’t even have that kind of money. He was planning to pay her in installments.

“He signed over ownership to his piece of a weed shop.”

“I think you seriously overestimated what Clear Passages is worth.”

“I think your underestimating how many doctors hand out medical marijuana cards at the drop of a hat.” That was true. You could get a card for pretty much anything these days. “If you gave me some more time, I’m sure I could find a hell of a lot more on your dirty sheriff.”

“I know, but I need it now.” Jarry was no longer at the top of his list today, but the information he had on her now could help him with other things. “It’s a bargaining chip and I have to use it tonight.”

“What are you bargaining for?”

“A life. My first foray into that today didn’t work out so well.” He pressed his fingers lightly to the bruising around his left eye. “Hopefully Patterson will be a bit more receptive.”

* * *

Jax looked out at the port from the rooftop of Red Woody, thinking about everything that had happened in the day. He never saw Stiles betrayal coming. He could not wrap his head around the fact that his mother had killed his wife. Nothing made sense.

“Jackie,” Chibs called to him cautiously. “Alright, brother?”

“No.” He didn’t think he would ever be okay again. “How did everything get this fucked up?”

“I don’t know.” The older man put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

“Do you have a location on Gemma yet?” He needed to find her. She had to be held accountable for what she had done.

“Not yet, but everyone is looking for her.” Chibs said. “About my vote – “

“I know why you did it.”

“He’s just a boy, Jax. He’s your baby brother. We all know that Gemma has to…” Gemma had to die. “But Stiles…. What Stiles did was horrible and unforgivable. He did it with the best intentions, but that does not excuse it. The fake pregnancy and miscarriage, which was horrendous, was the only thing that came to pass. You did not kill Tara over that and you were not going to kill her for making a deal to turn in the club. Stiles didn’t deserve to die for the same sins you couldn’t kill her over. There never should have been a vote to begin with.”

“The vote was his idea.” He had insisted on it.

“He was in pain, Jax. He wanted to save Juice. He didn’t have to tell us anything.” Jax wished now that his brother hadn’t said a word. “He is so far gone on Juicy, that he was willing to sacrifice himself, to lose you and his own life, by telling us the truth, to save him.”

“I made Stiles sit there and listen as I told Juice he was going to die.” Truth be told, he wasn’t quite sure what possessed him to call Stiles and demand he go to county with him. “Stiles gave me that truth, knowing I wouldn’t change my mind about Juice. He wanted me to hate him as much as he hated me.”

“He did what he thought he had to.”

“I know you care about Juice. You have anything to say about my choice for him?”

“He should have gotten a vote.” Just as Stiles said he should have. “But his fate would be the same. We all care about him, no matter what he’s done, but we would have voted for mayhem.”

“Yeah.” That vote had been coming for a while. “Do we need to sit down and vote for Gemma?”

“No.” Chibs shook his head. “You don’t have to be the one, brother. One of us –“

“No. It has to be me. She is my mother and Tara was my wife.”

* * *

By the time he reached the building, he was feeling a completely new level of panic. He feared that this would all be pointless, that nothing he had would be enough. Or worse, that it would be too late, that Jax’s order of death had already been filled, that Juice was dead.

“Mr. Stilinski,” Patterson offered him a guarded smile as he entered her office. “What can I do for you?”

“I want to make a deal.” That was something he never thought he would have to say to a District Attorney.

“No.” She replied quickly, before he could even finish sitting down in the chair across from her.

“What?”

“I will not be making any sort of deal with you.” She held up a hand to prevent him from responding. “I don’t like liars and you have been lying to me from the beginning.”

“No, I haven’t.” He had lied to her all of one time, about Tara’s murder, but she couldn’t know that.

“A lie by omission is still a lie.” That did jackshit to clear up his confusion.

“What did I not tell you that I apparently should have?”

“Your relationship with Juan Carlos Ortiz.” She held out a slip of paper to him. “I suppose congratulations are in order.”

“You never asked about my relationship with Juice.” He made no move to take what she was holding, already knowing what it was. “I met with you before my status with him changed.”

“He was arrested and taken into custody the same day this license was filed.” She dropped the license on top of a stack of papers that he really hoped had nothing to do with him or Juice. “Am I supposed to believe that is a coincidence?”

“We love each other, so we got married. It had nothing to do with what he did a few hours later.” However, he could understand why she was suspicious.

“If you had prior knowledge that a crime was going to take place – “

“I didn’t.” He knew Juice would be going to prison that day, but he had no idea how he was getting there. “I dropped him off in Charming after our ceremony. I didn’t know what he was going to do when I left.”

“I don’t believe you.” And she shouldn’t. Who the hell drops their brand new spouse off just a few hours after they get hitched?

“What does my marriage have to do with anything?” It had absolutely zero to do with what they were working on together.

“You are married to a convicted, currently incarcerated, felon. Couple that with who your brother is, and it makes me question everything you have told me.” He tried his damndest not to roll his eyes at that because she had no problem believing someone else who had been in a similar position.

“You were willing to make a deal with Tara, who was also married to a convicted felon. And she was in the middle of her own murder case.”

“That was a different situation.” Patterson insisted. “Dr. Knowles was handing over her husband and the Sons of Anarchy. You are claiming that a decorated police officer is on the take.”

“It’s different because Tara was turning in a known criminal organization that she had a personal connection to.” If he were turning in his husband and SAMCRO then they would not be having this conversation. “She wasn’t trying to pull a dirty sheriff out of office. A dirty sheriff that you put in place. But, I’m sure that has nothing to do with why you suddenly don’t believe anything I have to say.”

“Mr. Stilinski –“

“You don’t care what she does so long as she gets results. Well, since she has been running things, an escort services has been shot up and there was an explosion on Main Street. Let’s top all that off with the fact that she’s running around in circles getting nowhere in the Knowles and Roosevelt murder cases. Does that sound like results to you?” He slipped his hand into his pocket, pulled out one of the flash drives and tossed it on to her desk. “Instead of doing her job she’s been screwing bikers in public places, using her patrol car as a hard service for that extra umph. She’s been getting very close to SAMCRO and very far from keeping Charming safe.”

“What’s on this?” She picked up the USB stick.

“Video that shows her very personal relationship with a member of the Sons of Anarchy.” He did a full body shudder, because he watched the video, he shouldn't have but he did, and it would haunt him for the rest of his life. “Bank and credit card records. Things like that.”

“How did you get bank records and credit card statements?”

“I hired a private investigator. I didn’t ask how they got their information, I just accepted it.” He was sure Braeden had used her old contacts at the Marshal’s service to get some of it. “As a cops son, I know what kind of problems could arise if it got out that the local sheriff was taking money from a criminal organization. Every case she has worked on could be called into question, talks of bribery and intimidation. It could shine a really bright light on you, considering you handpicked her for office in Charming.”

“Are you trying to blackmail me?”

“I am trying to get you to do your damn job or I will find someone who will.” He was done dealing with officials that skirted around the law. “You worked hard to get where you are, don’t ruin it for a cop like Jarry. Someone in San Joaquin has to uphold the law and do things by the book.”

“What is the deal you want to make with me, Mr. Stilinski?” She didn’t look the least bit happy about asking that.

“I will give you Jarry today and Tara Knowles killer when I know everything is done.” She sent him a skeptical glance. “I want Juan Carlos Ortiz transferred to the prison ward of a psychiatric hospital for the duration of his sentence.”

“A psychiatric hospital?”

“He’s unstable and has a history of suicide attempts.” He would also be incredibly pissed off if he knew Stiles told anyone that. “That transfer needs to happen tonight.”

“The soonest I could have the paperwork in order and have it approved, is tomorrow afternoon, maybe midmorning.” He didn’t know if Juice had that kind of time. “It would only be a temporary transfer until I can confirm the information you are giving me about Jarry is true. About the Knowles murder – “

“Juice gets transferred and then I will tell you. This has to be discreet. It has to look like the prison psychologist believed he was a serious danger to himself and that Juice didn’t have any choice but to go. Involuntary psych hold.” The club couldn’t believe he or Juice had any idea it was going to happen. “I need to know that my husband is safe before I say anything.”

“Safe from the club?” It was an on point guess, but he was not going to tell her that.

“Safe from people who think he’s real pretty.” Pretty and prison were not a good mix.

“I see.” She seemed to catch the meaning behind his words.

“I’m sorry that I have to do things this way and that things got messy between us.” He wanted this to be clear-cut, about Jarry only, but the situation had changed and he had to resort to tactics that were no better than blackmail and bribery. “I wanted to work with you to clean up a dirty police force. I think maybe you were hoping that I would slip up and give you something to use against the Sons, or maybe you thought I would just turn them over to you when things got tough, but I can’t do that.”

“Tara was torn between giving up the Sons of Anarchy, her husband, and removing her children from a toxic environment. It’s a hard choice, I know – “

“No, you don’t. I watched Tara struggle with her indecision.” She wanted her children safe but she hated having to give up the family she had made in the club to do it. “I’m not struggling anymore. I came to Charming to solve Tara’s murder, which I've done, and to get her sons out. My nephews are in Beacon Hills now, under the care of my father. I’m positive my brother will not try to bring them back to Charming.”

“What if Gemma applies for custody?”

“I’m not worried about that. From what I understand, she is moving to Norco with Nero Padilla and his son.” That was the plan Nero had, but it would never happen. “Everything that I came to Charming to do is done. Once I leave, I won’t be coming back, not even to bury the Sons that I’m sure will fall victim to the violence they live in.”

“Ortiz is still a member of the Sons of Anarchy. It would be difficult to stay away when he’s here with them.”

“He’s no longer a member.” That was all he would say on that subject. “Can I get a visit with him tonight? I need to let him know he’ll be moved soon. I don’t want him to freak out.”

“I will get you another meeting with your husband.” The way she said the word _husband_ like it meant nothing, as if it were a dirty word, kept him seated when he could have gotten up to leave.

“I understand why you’re suspicious of my marriage to Juice, given the timing. You probably think it’s because of marital law or something.“ She thought he married Juice so he wouldn’t have to testify against him in a future court case. “The thing is, we got married because we love each other. There was nothing nefarious about it. It’s just love.”

* * *

He was confident that Juice was still alive, after listening to Patterson set up their visit. He let that assurance lead him down the highway toward the prison. Confident or not, he was still shaken from his last two visits and worried about what could go wrong during this one.

He grasped the rings hanging from the chain around his neck to calm him nerves, thankful to have something to hold on to. It was funny, when he had brought up the idea of marriage to Juice, he hadn’t even thought about rings, now he couldn’t imagine not having them while Juice was away.

_They headed for a diner down the street from the sheriff’s station after leaving Derek’s loft. Juice didn’t question why they had left so early when they didn’t have to be in Charming until later in the day. He seemed content to go along with whatever Stiles had planned for the outing._

_The booth in the back gave them a semblance of privacy to talk, though neither of them were particularly chatty that morning. They steadily worked their way through their second cups of coffee of the day while they waited for their food to arrive in silence until it had apparently become too much for the older man._

_“You pissed at me?” Juice’s voice pulled him from his focus of arranging the sugar packets._

_“No.” He only looked up only when Juice removed the packets from his field of vision._

_“You’re quiet.” He didn’t phrase it the way others might, as if it was a huge shock that Stiles could be silent._

_“I have a lot on my mind.” He said as he began fiddling with the salt and pepper and shakers. “I’m not thrilled with having to drop you off with the club or knowing that you’re going to jail today.”_

_“I’m not happy about it either. If there was another way – “_

_“There is.” He could think of multiple scenarios that kept Juice out of prison. “You’re only doing what they want to keep that stupid patch.”_

_“It’s not about the patch, Stiles.”_

_“Bullshit.”_

_“I have to do this, to make up for the shit I’ve done to the club, to my brothers. The patch is a part of that, yeah, but it’s not the part that I really want.”_

_“You lost me.”_

_“I want my family back, Stiles. I have to do this to get them back. I have to fix things with them.” By going to prison and killing someone. “They’ll stop hating me if I do this.”_

_“They are never going to trust you again.” He had to know that by now._

_“They won’t have to.”_

_“What does that mean?”_

_“After I OD’d, Gemma asked me how I was working through the damage. I told her that I didn’t know how to live in all of it anymore. I didn’t know how to live in the club.” He looked down, tracing circles on the table with the tip of his index finger as he continued. “I still don’t know if I can live in what SAMCRO has become.”_

_“Then why do this?” What was the point of any of this?_

_“If I run, I lose them. If I do nothing and stay, they will kill me. If I do this, I can get them back.” That did not answer the question Stiles had asked. “I could be on good terms with them. I could turn in my patch and still be able to see them if I wanted to.”_

_“So, you are going to go to jail, do what they want you to do, and turn in your patch when you get out?”_

_“I can’t answer that yet.” Then why the hell did he bother saying anything at all. “If I get out-“_

_“When you get out.” He corrected._

_“When I get out, I will see where I am and where the club is.” Juice told him. “If I don’t feel like SAMCRO is right for me anymore, then I will turn my patch in. That way, it may not be my club, but I will still have my friends. I want them back, Stiles, not the patch.”_

_“Do you know how long you’ll be gone?” He would ignore the problems he could see in Juice’s plan, in favor of realizing that Juice at least believed he could survive prison enough to be thinking about his future._

_“I’ll be violating my parole to get there, so a couple months if I’m really lucky, but more likely a year or two.” Even that was wishful thinking._

_“And if you get caught doing what you’re going there to do?”_

_“I won’t get caught.”_

_“You better not. I don’t want to have to stage a prison escape.” He joked but Juice wasn’t laughing. “I stole a prisoner transport van once before, I could do it again. I can get a friend to hack into the prison databases-“_

_“Tell me you don’t actually have a plan to break me out of jail.”_

_“I do not have_ a _plan to break you out of jail.” He assured him. “I have several.”_

_“Of course you do.”_

_The conversation lolled as the waitress brought out their meals. It wasn’t long after they started eating that the bell above the door signaled a new patron entering the establishment. The round of ‘Hey, Sheriff’ from the other customers was enough to tell them who had walked in._

_“You are lucky the ladies at City Hall like me.” His dad said, holding a large manila envelope out to him. “Just so you’re aware, I am not a 100% okay with this.”_

_“I know.” He tried to look abashed for his father’s sake as he took the proffered item._

_“But you are an adult and I trust your judgment on this.” He grumbled before stealing a piece of bacon off Juice’s plate._

_“You are not supposed to have that!” Stiles squawked._

_“I deserve this for what I did for you and for what I may witness in a few hours.” His dad chewed the meat defiantly._

_“May witness._ May _being the operative word. I haven’t actually…” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to him about it yet.”_

_“I’ll leave you to it then.” His father gave him an encouraging smile, despite his reservations, he still wanted Stiles to be happy. “You have an hour and a half to get to the courthouse. Let me know beforehand so I can meet you there if you’re going through with it.”_

_“Will do.”_

_“Courthouse?” Juice asked as Stiles watched his dad turn and walk out. “What’s going on?”_

_“I have two arguments for why this is a great idea.” He waved the envelope in his hands. “One for legal reasons and the other is for the more emotionally driven side of things.”_

_“Okay…”_

_“I don’t mean to spring it on you. I know there isn’t much time to think about it, but if we decide to do it, I would like to get it done before we leave for Charming.” He slid it over to Juice’s side of the table. “And I totally understand if it’s not something you want.”_

_“Can I look at before you decide it’s something I don’t want?”_

_“Yeah, of course.” He clasped his hands together to keep them from fidgeting. “While you’re looking at it, I want you to think about the things we said to each other last night.”_

_Juice only nodded as he carefully opened the package. Stiles let his eyes wander around the diner as he heard the scrape of paper on paper. He listened to Juice take a sharp inhalation of breath as he read the title of the document he held in his hands._

_“This is a marriage license.” He tried not to laugh at how high Juice’s voice became as he said it. “With both of our names on it.”_

_“Yep.”_

_“Usually, when a person wants to marry someone, they ask them.”_

_“Don’t be an asshole.” He was in no mood to be mocked._

_“They normally don’t shove a marriage license at the other person.” Juice quipped with a small grin playing on his lips._

_“Normal is overrated.” He and Juice didn't do things the 'normal' way. "If you are expecting me to get down on bended knee, it's not going to happen."  
_

_“We’re not even married yet and the romance is already dead.” The older man replied sarcastically, but all Stiles could focus on was the_ yet _that followed_ married _._

_“So it’s something you’re open to?” He let the tiniest bit of hope leak into his voice._

_“I’m curious about the argument you said you had.” That wasn’t a yes or a no. “What’s the legal reasoning?”_

_“We would have rights to each other. We could make medical decisions for one another. I’ll be able to take care of your house and business while you’re locked up.” He could take care of whatever needed to be taken care of. "Things like that."  
_

_“What you’re saying is, you want to be able to pull the plug on me if it needs pulling, so you can have all my shit, including my poor excuse for a life insurance policy?” Juice jested._

_“That is exactly right. You’ve uncovered my dastardly plan.”_

_“And the emotionally driven argument?”_

_“I love you.” It was as simple as that._

_“Letting go of the fact that we’ve been back together all of one day and a few weeks ago you were dating a coyote…” So what if their relationship wasn’t exactly conventional, there was nothing wrong with that. “There are problems that I can see with this-”_

_“If you say my age, I will kick you in the nuts.” He would not accept that as an excuse._

_“You’re eighteen, dumbass. If the age thing was going to be a problem we wouldn’t have started screwing when you were sixteen.” He had a point there. “I’m not going to say you’re too young to be thinking about getting married.”_

_“Good, because my dad already gave me that speech.” He did not need to hear it again._

_“The big problem I see with this,” He gestured to the license. “Is that you are going to be a cop and I’m a felon, that could be an issue for your future employer.”_

_“I’ll deal with that if it happens.” He was not going to worry about it now._

_“Okay, well, what if I decide not to leave the club?” That could pose a significantly bigger problem than Stiles career choice._

_“I told you when we got serious,” After they had first started seeing each other a few years ago. “That I wouldn’t make you choose between us and SAMCRO. That is still true today, but I’m not going to lie and say that might not change. I’ve always known that you belonged to the club before anything else. I am not under the assumption that you’ll be mine just because we exchange vows. I’m willing to work around that part of your life, like we’ve done before, for as long as I can.”_

_“Did you pick up my money from Clear Passages?” Juice asked after a beat of silence._

_“What does that have to do with anything?” He just proposed and now Juice wanted to talk about money?_

_“Yes or no?”_

_“Yes. Why?”_

_“We’re going to need rings if we’re getting married.”_

They were nothing flashy or showy, they were simple but elegant. Juice’s was black with a band of silver wrapped around the middle. His own was the exact opposite, silver with a black band. Juice hadn’t wanted to wear his to prison, in fear that it wouldn’t be returned with the rest of his belongings, so he purchased the chain so Stiles could wear it as a reminder. Stiles chose to keep his on the chain as well, wearing them both close to his heart.

* * *

John didn’t seem surprised to see her when he opened his front door. He didn’t say a thing as he led her inside. She spotted the boys in the living room as she came in. Abel was watching cartoons while Thomas was napping in Melissa’s arms. John grabbed her by the wrist when he noticed her stall and quickly guided her down the hall and into an office.

“Were you expecting me?” She asked while he closed the door behind them.

“You’re a creature of habit, Gemma.” He told her. “Jax wants your head on a platter and obviously you know that.”

“Juice sold me out.” At least he had the decency to call and warn her about Jax.

“So you are making the rounds. You’re going to see the people that can still stand the sight of you.” That was a little harsh. “Your grandsons are two of those people because they don’t know any better. I’m guessing Oregon is your next stop.”

“Do you know why Jax wants me dead?”

“Yes.”

“You going to arrest me, Sheriff?”

“No.” He didn’t seem to sure of himself.

“How long have you known?”

“Stiles told me when he brought Juice up here.” Of course, he had.

“Did he tell you Juice killed Roosevelt?”

“Not intentionally, but it wasn’t hard to figure out.” Stiles didn’t hesitate to sell her out to his father but it was Juice that he protected.

“Juice kills a fellow sheriff and still you let our son marry him.” She wondered how he could justify that.

“I let Stiles make his own decision about someone he loves.” When Stiles put his mind to something next to nothing, even his father’s disapproval, could stop him.

“He does love Juice and Juice loves him. It’s that deep love too, like Jax and Tara had.” She mused sadly. “It’s going to end just as tragically. You won’t be able to save Stiles from that.”

“I know.”

“When I lost JT… that was some of the worst pain I had ever felt, second only to losing my Thomas.” She admitted, taking a seat in the computer chair at the desk. “I never wanted Jax to feel that kind of hurt, let alone be the cause of it. Losing the person you chose to spend your life with takes something from you, a piece of you that you can never get back.”

“Yes, it does.” He twisted the band that still sat on his finger as he spoke. “I would never wish that on anyone, your son, or mine.”

She looked away from him, spying a picture on the desk. It sat in a metal frame, the glass covering clear of any dust. It was well cared for, as if John had meticulously cleaned it every day. It was Stiles as a young boy, playing in the dirt, and a dark hair woman smiling brightly with her arms wrapped tightly around him.

“They look real happy here.”

“They were.” His voice tightened as she picked the frame up to get a closer look.

“She was a good mom.” Claudia had gotten along so easily with Stiles, accepted the place she adopted when she married John. She doted on Stiles and he adored her.

“She was amazing mother.” John shifted on his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that regret you’re feeling, Gemma?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I do have a lot of regrets when it comes to Stiles, but letting you take him isn’t one of them.”

“What happened to your belief that I stole him from you?”

“You come to terms with the things you’ve done, get perspective about the choice’s you’ve made, when you face your own mortality.” She remarked, setting the picture back down.

“I’m sure you do.” He titled his head to study her for a moment. “Why don’t you let me take you in, Gem?”

“No.” Even if she turned herself in she was looking at spending the rest of her life in a maximum security prison and she couldn’t do that.

“Do you want your son to kill you?” He asked incredulously. “Do you want Jax to carry the weight of that? It would cripple him.”

“Jax is strong – “

“No, he’s not. If suicide by son is your plan then you might as well put a bullet in your boy yourself.”

“Arrest me if you’re so worried about it.” She challenged.

“Okay.” He walked toward a file cabinet and removed a pair of handcuffs from the top drawer. “Stand up and put your hands behind your back.”

“I am not going to let you take me in, Johnny.” She pushed out of the chair and reached into her purse, feeling around for the familiar weapon she kept there. “Do not make me pull a gun on you. You don’t want me to put my grandchildren and your friend out there in danger, do you?”

“You never cease to amaze me, Gemma.” He dropped the metal bracelets onto the desk. “What you are willing to put your child and your grandchildren through is truly frightening.”

“Where’s Wendy?” She asked suddenly, changing the subject to a safer topic. “She wasn’t out there with the boys.”

“She went to the community center to get information about the local NA meetings.”

“That’s good. She’s keeping up with her recovery.” She said before giving him a considering look. “It’s nice of Melissa to come help you while Wendy’s out.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been around babies. She’s helping me relearn some things.”

“You should marry her.” She suggested.

“We are not even seeing each other.”

“You could be.”

“You came here to say goodbye to your grandchildren, not to talk about my nonexistent love life.” He reminded her. “Do you want to see them or not?”

“Take me to my grandsons.”

* * *

His luck must have been changing when he was brought into the visiting area without any accidental run ins with Jarry. Several sets of tables and chairs were set up in the room. It was a far cry from the intimate setting of the conjugal room, or the interrogation style of the one he and Jax had been in earlier that day.

Juice was waiting for him at a designated table. It was not a happy expression adorning his husbands face. No, he looked downright pissed when Stiles sat down beside him.

“Are you out of your mind?” Juice snarled. “Why would you come back here alone after what happened the first time?”

“I needed to talk to you.” He couldn’t exactly bring anyone with him for this discussion. “What Jax has planned for you…I have a way to stop it.”

“What did you do?” There was no shortage of accusation in his tone.

“You’re getting transferred tomorrow.” He thought Juice would be relieved, but his words seemed to have the opposite effect.

“That can’t happen.”

“Why?”

“I have to do this for the club, Stiles.” That was a shitty reason that Stiles was not about to accept.

“Screw the club.” He did not care what they wanted or needed. “You’ve done enough for them. You don’t have to die for them too.”

“You have to stop whatever you did.”

“No. I will not let you be killed. I won’t.” Too many people had died for the club already and Juice would not be next.

“I know that you are scared.” He made an aborted move to grab Stiles hand. “But I need you to trust me. Trust that I know what I am doing.”

“I do trust you, but I cannot let you die for them.” They were not worth it.

“Everything is going to be fine.”

“You will die if I don’t help you.” How was that anywhere in the realm of fine?

“It will be okay. I promise.” Juice tried again to reassure him. “I will be fine. In fact, the next time you see me you are going to be so fucking angry with me.”

“You’re damn right.” He snapped. “I don’t do anything and the next time I see you, you will be on a metal slab in the morgue, or in a coffin at the cemetery.”

“Listen to me,” Juice ordered sharply. “Call off whatever you started.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“I will not let you die. Please stop asking me to.” Stiles put his head in his hands, not unlike how his brother had earlier when learning what really happened to Tara. “I don’t know if you are in some sort of zen-like state, because you believe you will be at peace – “

“I am not zen. I am confident.” Juice corrected. “I let this happen and then I’ll be free.”

“You will be dead.”

“This is the last thing I will do for the club.” He cut Stiles off before he could argue. “After everything that has happened since I’ve been here… I can’t be a part of SAMCRO’s world anymore. I love my club, my brothers, but I can’t be one of them again.”

“It won’t matter. You’ll be dead.” He reminded Juice for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Trust me.” Juice said more forcefully. “Stop whatever you did and trust me.”

“You hung yourself. You walked through an active minefield. You OD’d on oxy.” He ticked each offense off with his fingers. “Those are just the ones I know of. I trust you with my life. I do not trust you with your own.”

“Okay.” Juice conceded. “What you have planned is not going to change what happens to me.”

“It can.”

“It won’t and I’m sorry.”

“Juice – “

“I know how much this is going to hurt you. And when you learn the full story you are going to feel a lot of hate for me and others that you care about.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The only thing I can tell you right now is that I love you and I promise everything is going to be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: [I Need a Favor](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/112857712534/mama-gemma-au-i-need-a-favor-27-chapter-12), [Why Wasn't I Worthy, Gem?](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/112675435334/mama-gemma-au-why-wasnt-i-worthy-gem-26).  
> [TUMBLR](http://www.stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/)  
> [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/user/SandM1827/)  
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos, they are greatly appreciated.


	12. It's Not Enough To Leave On One Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd.  
> Warning: Mentions of rape, self-harm and suicidal thoughts.  
> Chapter title comes from One Goodbye - Jayson Belt  
> Gif sets:[Why Wasn't I Worthy, Gem?](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/112675435334/mama-gemma-au-why-wasnt-i-worthy-gem-26).  
> Random art for the story: [Chapters ± Songs](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/112590692364/mama-gemma-au-chapters-song-titles-1-cant-go).  
> Actual dialogue from the SOA again in this chapter.

He tried to stick close to Jax since the truth had come out. Stiles truth. Gemma’s truth. It was all bearing down on him. Chibs had watched him toss and turn restlessly on the small cot in the Mayan’s hideout most of the night, until a phone call in the early morning hours had woken him completely.

There was hesitation in Jax’s movements before he accepted the call. Chibs could only guess who was on the other end of the line by the changing expressions on his President’s face. He was tense and guarded one moment, then angry and confused, before heartbreak and fear settled in. Jax didn’t say anything during the call, only listened, and that should have told Chibs everything he needed to know about who he was talking to.

“Hey,” Jax stood from the cot as he ended the call. “Can you do something for me?”

“What is it?” He was ready to do whatever the younger man needed him to do.

“Go check on Stiles.” Jax looked down at the phone in his hands as if his brother was going to jump out of it at any moment. “He sounded like he was shitfaced.”

“He have anything coherent to say?” To put that look of sadness on his face, he expected there had to be something.

“A couple of things, then it was all…” Jax scrubbed a hand down his face as he spoke. “Then it was all crying.”

“I’ll check on him.” He assured him.

“Thanks.”

“Shit between you and the boy, it’ll work itself out.” It had to. Jax couldn’t lose his wife, mother, and baby brother too, whether it was to death or banishment.

“I don’t think we have time to work it out.” Jax said regretfully.

“Make the time.” He ordered. “I know, as well as Stiles does, what happens when you find Gemma. He was right when he said you don’t come back from that. You have got to make things right with the people you still love before you do that.”

“I don't know if there can be anything right with Stiles and I again.” Jax looked away from him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’s not all on my end either. I don’t think he would sit in the same room with me right now, let alone forgive, forget, and move on.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He said that I was doing to him what Gemma did to me.” Jax confessed. “He told me that I wasn’t my father, like I tried to be, and I wasn’t Clay, which had been my worst fear. He said I turned into Gemma.”

“Christ.” Stiles always did go for the jugular when he wanted to hurt someone. “He say that on the phone?”

“Yeah.” Jax sat down in the chair beside him. “I wanted to deny it, but I can see his point of view. Gemma killed my wife, and I ordered the death of someone he cared about while he was sitting right next to me.”

“You can’t look at it that way.” Juice’s death had to remain a club call, not a personal offense.

“Juice has to die. He is going to die today.” Jax said. “As President of the Sons of Anarchy, I know that. As Stiles big brother and as someone who has lost someone they loved, I…”

“You feel guilty for what Stiles is about to go through.” Chibs filled in the blanks.

“Yeah.”

“So help him.” He can’t stop Juice’s death, but he could take care of Stiles during the fallout. “He came to help you after Tara’s death – “

“He came to take my boys.”

“He didn’t take them. He took care of them.” Stiles had not actually made a move to take the boys since his return to Charming. He had asked Jax for them, but he did not try to take them away. “You want to make things right with Stiles before you don’t have the time? Make it right. It’s not the time to hold a grudge. You offer him some solace or some kind of comfort after Juice’s gone, that’s how you make it right.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Try.” Chibs said forcefully. “What Stiles was going to do, and what he did do, is horrifying, and a betrayal. But it all boils down to one thing, his love for your boys. We all do things we never thought we would to protect our families.”

* * *

 

It was the second time in a week he had woken up in cold water. He could be thankful that it was raining down on him this time, instead of being submerged beneath it, like he had been the previous time. The downfall was that he was fully clothed in it now, jeans and shirt soaked and weighing on him.

“Are you conscious?” A voice sounded loudly in his ears.

“No.” He replied dumbly, hoping whoever it was would go away.

“Get up. Get dressed.” Chibs ordered harshly. “Breakfast is in the kitchen.”

He blindly reached over to turn the faucet off, flinching when the bathroom door slammed shut. He pulled himself up and out of the tub, stumbling and slipping on the tile thanks to his socks. He peeled out of his doused clothing, dropping them in the hamper to deal with later. He took a towel off the rack to dry himself with, leaving the bathroom only when he felt he had done a satisfactory job of it.

“That is more of you then I ever needed to see.” Chibs grumbled.

“Shouldn’t have thrown me into the shower then.” Stiles pointed out, standing stark naked in the hallway, his towel having been discarded before he left the bathroom.

“Go put some clothes on.” The older man demanded. “If you do it quickly, I might give you something for that hangover.”

“I can get my own aspirin, thanks.” He snapped. “Get out of my house. _Please_.”

“It’s Juicy’s house.” Chibs corrected. “Now stop being a little bastard, go put some god damn clothes on, and get back out here.”

“Whatever.” He made sure to close the door to the master bedroom with the right amount of force to make the house vibrate and the boom echo, once he was behind it.

He debated curling up in the all too welcoming bed and ignoring Chibs presence completely. However, with the attitude Chibs had greeted him with he doubted the Scot would allow him to hide away and sulk. The prick.

He steeled himself for what was to come as he exited the bedroom fully dressed. He couldn’t think of what Chibs could possibly want from him. Apologies? Answers? Stiles wasn’t feeling particularly chatty this morning, so he didn’t know if Chibs would be getting what he was looking for.

“Sit down.”

“I don’t take orders.” He defiantly kept standing in the doorway between the kitchen and hall. “I’m not one of your prospects.”

“Stop being difficult.” Chibs said with exasperation. “ _Please_ , sit down.”

“Since you asked so nicely.” He dropped into the chair at the table.

“Take these.” The older man dropped two pills into Stiles palm and slid a cup of coffee over. “For the hangover.”

“Thanks.” He looked suspiciously down at the pills before knocking them back with a swig of coffee. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving you from choking your own vomit, apparently.” Chibs said while setting a takeout container of food in front of him. “Jax asked me to check on you.”

“Why the hell would he do that?”

“What did you do last night, after the vote?”

“I went to see Juice.” That was after his meeting with Patterson, but Chibs did not need to know that. “He told me to let him die.”

“And after that?”

“I came here. It’s pretty obvious what happened next.” He glanced at the empty liquor bottles lining the counter top. “I woke up in the shower, but you knew that.”

“You don’t remember making a phone call sometime before your shower?” Things got a little hazy after he found the Jack Daniel’s hidden behind a can of coffee in the cabinet the night before, so, no, he did not remember any phone calls.

“Should I?”

“You called Jax.” Well, fuck, that wasn’t good. “Said some very hurtful things.”

“After yesterday, I don’t think I have the ability to hurt Jax anymore.” He was sure he had pushed Jax as far as he possibly could with his confession.

“You may be the only person who still has that ability.” That was a terrifying power to hold.

“What could I say, that was so hurtful, that you would come running over here?” It had to be bad if Jax wanted someone with him.

“You likened him to Gemma.”

“He is his mother’s son.” He saw that before Jax ordered Juice’s death.

“Why are you being such an asshole this morning?” Chibs snarled, patience having run out.

“Let me think about that for a minute,” It should have been obvious, but he apparently had to spell it out for him. “Oh yeah, the club is having Juice killed.”

“Juice was a Son long before he was your boyfriend. He knew the consequences of this life, of his actions, and so did you.” Chibs said as if it justified anything.

“So, his death means nothing because he knew the consequences?” If that is what he thought then he could fuck right the hell off. “It doesn’t bother you that a man who has been by your side for ten years, who has been your brother, is going to die? He’s not even dying for his own betrayal. He’s dying for Gemma’s.”

“He gave her that lie to tell about Lin. It’s his sin as well.” Chibs told him.

“When does Tig die?”

“What?”

“He took out Pope’s daughter, right? That is why Pope went after you guys in Stockton. By your clubs logic, Tig is just as responsible for Opie’s death as Pope.” Stiles deduced. “Tig also pulled the trigger on Donna, but never paid for that. I was just wondering when he was going to meet Mr. Mayhem.”

“That was a different situation.” Chibs argued.

“It always is.”

“Stiles – “

“Let’s be honest about what Juice really is, shall we?” He suggested. “He’s the scapegoat. He’s a lesson to be taught to prospects, a warning.”

“That is not true.”

“You don’t want future members to keep things from the table, so you will tell them about the rat who thought he could earn his way back in.” It did not matter that the current members were all hiding secrets from each other, they were not going to accept it from anyone who could one day be SAMCRO. “You will tell them that your president thought rape was an acceptable punishment, but it wasn’t punishment enough.”

“Jax would never okay that – “

“He gave Juice to Tully, to be his fucktoy and keep him happy.” To keep that deal in place. “And Juice just took it, because he knew it was what Jax wanted. It was what he needed to do to keep the alliance with Tully’s organization. He let Tully use him for you, for his brothers.”

“I didn’t know about any of that.” The truth was written in the shock on Chibs face.

“Would it have mattered if you did? You are Jax’s boy. You follow him like a blind dog. You wouldn’t have put a stop to any of it.” Not one member would have stepped up to protect Juice if they had known. “He did all of it for you people and none of you would have helped him. He wanted you to stop hating him. He is willing to be killed if it makes up for what he did. Death won’t be enough, will it? The only way he knows you all still care for him is if he keeps the reaper and Jax is going to strip him of that posthumously as one last fuck you.”

“When did you start hating your brother so much?” Chibs asked suddenly, as if that is what they had been talking about this whole time.

“I don’t hate him. I hate the decisions he makes. I hate the SAMCRO president, and trust me, there is a spectacular difference between him and my brother.” The two had started blending into one since Tara’s death, though. “I love Jackson. It’s the person he’s become that I have trouble with.”

“And the person you’ve become?”

“Doesn’t think revenge comes before the safety of your family.” That was something Jax did not understand. “The person I am doesn’t think the club should come before the children.”

“Would you give up your pack if the life it came with put those boys in danger?” It was nearly the same thing Jax had asked him two days before, and Stiles had thought about it a bit more since then.

“Yes.” He answered honestly. “I’ve already started the process of doing just that.”

“What?” It was funny, they thought he would give up the club, who he had known and loved his entire life, but not the pack, to keep the boys safe.

“I’m not going to Berkeley in the fall. I’m not staying in California.” It was not a decision he had made lightly. “Berkeley was the plan before Tara’s death, but now I’m making adjustments.”

“Where are you going?”

“The boys will spend the few years I’m in college away from the club, the pack, and the violence that comes with both lifestyles.” He said instead of answering Chibs question. “After I graduate, I’ll see where we are.”

“You’ve got it all figured out then.” Chibs said approvingly. “Except those aren’t your boys, Stiles.”

“I’m going to take them away from Charming and Beacon Hills. I’m going to do everything I can to keep them safe and make sure they know they are loved.” He would make the sacrifices that Jax couldn’t to ensure all of that. “Jax understands that.”

“Does he?”

“If he didn’t, he would have gone to get them from my dad’s house last night.” His father would not have been legally able to stop if he had shown up. “Jax the SOA Pres may not fully understand yet, doesn’t want to, but Jax the father does.”

“Where was Juicy going to fit into these plans, had he earned his way back in?” If he earned his right to live, was more like it. “Or were you so blinded by your infatuation for him that you didn’t think that far ahead?”

“Infatuation…” Stiles scoffed and twisted the ring that now sat on his finger. He slipped it off the chain after leaving the prison the night before, needing it to be in its rightful place for just a little while.

“Oh.” Chibs eyes zeroed in on the piece of silver. He was glad that Juice’s was still hanging around his neck, hidden by his shirt, so it did not face the same scrutiny his was garnering. “It’s like that, is it?”

“Yeah, it’s like that.” It was a hell of a lot more than simple infatuation or some boyhood crush. “And he and I would have made it work. I would never move to Charming to be with him, if that’s what you’re thinking. If he chose to stay here, then we would have found a way to see each other, and taken every precaution when we did. I would not compromise the boys and he knows that. If he came with me, turned in his kutte, then we would have been a family.”

“You have thought a lot about all of this.”

“I never stop thinking about it.” His brain never shut up, it never turned off. “Scenario’s and contingency plans are all I can think about when I’m in Charming.”

“I’m guessing you never thought Juice wouldn’t make it out of County.” On the contrary, he had plenty of thoughts, and an abundance of nightmares, about that.

“I did. I even had ways to get him out if I could.”

“Why don’t you?” He was trying but Chibs did not need to know that.

“He told me not to.”

“That’s all that’s stopping you?”

“I’m not going to be another person that violates his trust and goes against his wishes.” He lied. “He is going to die for SAMCRO and I have to respect that because he asked me to.”

“I don’t want him to die.” The older man mumbled under his breath, as if he had not meant to say it at all. “I wanted him to run.”

“So did I.” Even if it meant he never saw him again.

“That boy ain’t right.” Chibs muttered. “He hasn’t been for a while. Maybe it’s better if he just gets to… let go.”

“It’s better if he’s dead?”

“He’ll be at peace, yeah?”

“If that’s what’s going to help you sleep at night.” It sure as hell was not going to help him.

Stiles dropped his gaze down to the table. He wrapped his hands around his mug of cooling coffee, just to have something to do with them. He could feel Chibs eyes on him, boring into his soul, searching it for something.

“You gonna stop Jax?” He asked the older man.

“Juice’s fate – “

“Wasn’t talking about Juice.” His head was not the only one on the chopping block. “Are you going to stop Jax from taking out Gemma?”

“No.”

“It will kill him.”

“I told him someone else could do it. He refused us.” Of course he did. “He wants to be the one.”

“He thinks he has to be the one, that she has to die.” It was hardwired in Jax’s DNA to think that way. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“In our world, it is that way.”

“Your world sucks.”

“Aye.” Chibs agreed.

Stiles pushed his coffee cup and the box of food away from him. He folded his arms on the tabletop and rested his head on them. He looked toward the fridge, seeing pictures of club members held up by old magnets. He listened to the scrape of chair legs against the tiled floor before he felt a warm palm on the back of his neck.

“Knowing what you would do to SAMCRO doesn’t change anything, you know. I still love you, kid.” Chibs told him. “We’re still family.”

“Love you too.” He whispered back, fighting the urge to bury his face in his arms and hide.

“I’ll tell you what I told Jackie, it’s all going to work itself out. It always does.”

“How many more members of our family are we going to bury before it works itself out?”

“I don’t know.”

* * *

 

Juice sat in his cell, knees drawn to his chest, scalpel twirling between his fingertips. He thought about using it on himself, not letting Tully or Lin’s men have the pleasure of his blood on their hands. Of course, he would be breaking all of his promises if he did that and everything that had happened since he had been here would have been for nothing.

Tully had to be the one to do it, to keep his arrangement open with SAMCRO. Juice had to die to fulfill his duty to the club, it was the only way he could forgive himself for the crimes he had committed against them. He would let this happen and be satisfied knowing that he had done everything his brothers had asked of him.

He lay down on what passed for a bed in this place and rested his head on the dirty pillow. He let a small smile grace his lips when he realized how soon this would all be over. He would be out of this place, away from the people who saw him as nothing more than a hole to use, soon enough. He made the call to put that plan in play just that morning.

Unfortunately, that plan did not come without its risks. He could not be sure if it was going to work or not. Handing the scalpel over to Tully, could be nothing more than a form of assisted suicide if it all went bad. However, if he was going to die today, he was not going down alone.

* * *

 

Stiles sighed as he pulled into the parking lot of Teller-Morrow and saw who was waiting for him. From the apologetic wave he received from Chucky he could see that he had been played. The text he received earlier told him he was here for a specific reason, but given the two figures waiting outside the office, it was clear that was bullshit.

“I wasn’t lying.” Chucky held up his fake fingers in a placating manner as Stiles hopped out of the jeep. “Juice’s bike is here. The guys picked it up from the impound lot and brought it here after he went inside. I heard them talking about what was going to happen and I didn’t know what they planned to do with it, and I thought you would want it so…”

“Can you get someone to take it over to Juice’s house for me?” The club would probably sell it or use it as target practice if they got a hold of it.

“Yeah, sure.” The other man nodded enthusiastically. “I’m real sorry about Juice.”

“Don’t be. He’s going to be fine.” Chucky gave him a pitying look in response to that. “Thanks for the heads up about the bike.”

“No problem. I’ll get one of the guys on it now.”

“That would be great, thanks.”

He watched Chucky jog toward the garage before accepting his fate. There was no way the men waiting for him were going to let him leave without talking to him first. He had been dodging calls from both of them most of the morning, the attempt at cornering him should not come as a surprise.

“What happened there?” Wayne gestured to the bruising along Stiles face.

“Old sins.” He answered, trying to keep his impatience at bay as he took in the anxious expressions on both Unser and Nero’s faces. “What do you want?”

“We know you have a lot going on, with your old man and all,” Nero started cautiously. “But we need your help.”

“It would be in your best interest not to bring my husband up to me again.” He warned, knowing it was Juice’s confession to Nero, and Nero’s words to Jax, that cemented the betrayal that led to Juice’s incarceration in the first place. He had been nice enough not to hold it against him up until now. “What do you want from me?”

“Do you know where Gemma is?” Stiles crossed his arms over his chest as he sent a hardened glared toward the men at the question. “This is important.”

“You are her BFF, you should know where she is.” He shot back at Wayne. “I guess if either of you did then there would be two white horses riding up to save the day.”

“It’s not about saving Gemma.” Nero said. “It’s about Jax. Killing his mother… he can’t do that and walk away whole.”

“You don’t think I know that?” It was the reason he had kept Gemma’s secret from everyone as long as he had. “I know my brother a hell of a lot better than the two of you.”

“So help us stop him.” Nero begged. “Please, if you know where Gemma is, you get her out before he finds her.”

“You know where she is.” Unser pointed an accusing finger at him. “You always do.”

“There is only one place she would go.” He mused. “The same place I would if I was on the tail end of my goodbye tour.”

“Which is where?”

“To the one person who will love you no matter what you do.”

“To her daddy.” Wayne proclaimed with relief in his voice.

“Jax will figure it out soon, if he hasn’t already.” Jax knew how Gemma felt about Nate, he had to know he was who she would run to at a time like this.

“You could talk him down.” Nero insisted. “Give him a different option.”

“Jax see’s me as a traitor now. He is not going to listen to anything I have to say.”

“Just try, please.” Nero pleaded.

* * *

The pack had gathered in Derek’s loft, preparing for the plan that he and Scott had set in motion. He watched Scott pace by the windows. His eyes found Kira and Liam, both looking sick with nerves as they sat on the couch beside Lydia, Malia, and Braeden, who looked bored out of their skulls.

“We need to leave soon if we want to be there on time.” Braeden pointed out.

“Are we sure this is going to work?” Lydia asked the question everyone had on his or her minds.

“Yes. Yes it is going to work.” Scott assured them.

“Which part? The breaking in? The crap Deaton gave him to suppress his wolf?” And, yeah, the sour expression on Scott’s face was enough to tell them exactly how angry he was that Deaton held that particular concoction from him when he first turned. “Deaton’s last attempt at making a magic potion didn’t work out well for Stiles.”

“It’s going to work.”

“I still don’t understand why Stiles can’t know.” Kira admitted with a raised hand.

“I second that.” Liam’s hand shot up to join Kira’s.

“Third it.” Malia raised her hand as well.

“The club needs to believe it, so Stiles needs to believe it.” Scott explained.

“That doesn’t make sense.” Lydia noted.

“He can’t know yet.” Derek did not fully agree with it, but Scott was Stiles best friend and the alpha so he would let him take the lead on this.

“Did you call Cora and let her know?” Scott asked him.

“Yeah, she and her pack are ready.” That was a fun call to make.

“Good.”

“Exactly how long do you plan to keep this from Stiles?” Braeden interjected and made Derek question how close she and Stiles had become lately. He knew that before Stiles left for Charming, they had breakfast and went paintballing on Sunday’s when the pack trained, claiming something about human solidarity. He also knew she had been taking meetings with him while he was away, he just didn’t know why.

“I’m not sure yet.” Scott told them.

“I’m glad we have all of this figured out.” Lydia snarked. “What happens if we get caught?”

“We won’t get caught.”

“Hundred bucks says we all end up in jail by the end of the night.” Malia quipped.

“For what, stealing a corpse?” The alpha said in a poorly timed joke.

“That is not the only law we are breaking.” Lydia grumbled, like she was in danger of being held legally responsible for whatever happened tonight. Her parents would probably have the charges on her dropped in a heartbeat if they were caught.

“Only two of us are actually breaking serious laws. The rest of you are just accomplices.” Braeden acknowledged, being one of the two who could do time if they were caught. “Derek and I are the only ones who have anything to worry about.”

* * *

 

Juice walked slowly up to the table where Tully sat with his crew. The tray that held what would his final meal here felt heavier in his hands with each step he took.

“I need to talk to you. Alone.” With a simple look, Tully’s men dispersed across the cafeteria.

“What happened here?” Tully asked as he took in Juice’s battered face.

“Asian tune-up.” He replied as he took a seat across from the older man. “Weren’t real happy about Lin.”

“Must not have been too upset. You’re breathing.” Tully observed.

“That’s ‘cause they need me.” Everyone needed him for something. “To kill you.”

“Makes sense.” Tully flashed him a smirk. “You do realize you lost the element of surprise.”

“I need a favor.” He reached for the scalpel he kept hidden in his sock. “It’s personal. It can’t fall back on the club.”

“In exchange for what?”

“I know Jax tasked you with killing me.” There was no one else inside close enough to him to get that job done. “And if the Chinese do it, it could impact your relationship with the MC.”

“I’m listening.” Tully said with intrigue.

“Jarry.” She was unfinished business that he could take care of.

“The sheriff? You want me to have her taken out?” Juice nodded. “Should I ask why?”

“She hurt someone I care about.” He was going to make sure she never hurt him again.

“The kid.” Tully deduced. “Consider it done.”

“Just like that?” It seemed too easy.

“You have been a very good boy for me.” He drawled, causing Juice to bite back a shiver of disgust. “We’ll call this your reward for that. Anything else you need?”

“Just let me finish my pie.”

* * *

 

Nate was looking out the window from his chair as Stiles came in. He knocked briefly on the open door, not wanting to startle the old man. Nate head turned to him, his brows furrowed in confusion at the sight of Stiles before his face broke out in a smile.

“Hey.” He gave his grandfather a grin of his own, comfortable with the knowledge that he remembered him. Seeing Gemma must have sparked something in the older man.

“Hello.” Nate’s smile didn’t falter as Stiles sat in an open chair. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He doubted that Nate got much company aside from doctors and nurses. He had driven up once or twice, but the guilt was still heavy for not visiting more often.

“You look… older than the last time I saw you. How old are you now, Johnny?” Whatever hope Stiles had of his grandpa recognizing him vanished in a moment.

“I’m eighteen, but I’m not Johnny.” It was the first time he had ever been mistaken for his father, though.

“I know that. I’m not stupid.” Nate grumbled in irritation. “You’re um… you are…”

“Stiles.” The name only seemed to confuse him more and Stiles remembered that Rose never used that name when talking to him. “Nathaniel. I’m Nathaniel.”

“Oh… Oh!” Somehow, the sudden recognition on Nate’s face did nothing for Stiles nerves. “Your mama is going to be so happy that you are here.”

“No! No. I am not your son.” And Rose sure as hell wouldn’t be happy to see him if she were alive. “I’m your grandson. Gemma and Johnny’s son.”

“Gemma and Johnny…” He didn’t know if the horror on Nate’s face was because the mere thought of Gemma and his dad being friendly enough to have a child was just that scary, or because he had absolutely no idea who Stiles was talking about.

Stiles scanned the number of pictures displayed on the dresser. There seemed to be a few of each generation of the Madock family present. Stiles smiled when one in particular caught his eye. He reached over and carefully picked it up in his hands. He turned the photograph of two teenagers in baseball uniforms, holding a trophy between them, toward his grandfather.

“This,” He pointed to the blond boy with a missing baseball cap and bright blue eyes. “That’s my dad, John Stilinski.”

“That was a good day.” Nate took the picture from him. “They worked so hard for that trophy. Neither of them could stop smiling for days.”

“Your son, Nathaniel.” He pointed to the dark haired boy in the picture. “I was named after him.”

“Nathaniel…” Nate caressed the photograph. “He and Johnny would get up to so much mischief.”

“They were trouble maker?” He never heard much about his dad’s childhood, his father was pretty closed lipped about it.

“They were good boys, but they would play pranks on their teachers or neighborhood kids. Just harmless things.” He smiled softly as he placed the photo back in its rightful place. “Johnny spent almost every day with us after his mama ran off and took his little brother with her. His daddy loved him something fierce, but he couldn’t be around all the time. We helped where we could.”

“I’m glad my dad had two fathers to look out for him.” Nate looked over at him again, but Stiles could tell he had no idea who he was looking at. “It’s Nathaniel, Grandpa.”

“Not my Nathaniel.”

“Right. I’m not your Nathaniel.” At least he remembered that much. “Johnny named me after your Nathaniel.”

“I’d like to see him.” Nate told him.

“Nathaniel?” He hoped he wouldn’t have to remind him that his son was dead and had been for some time.

“My Nathaniel is with Rosie. No, I’d like to see Johnny.”

“I’ll tell him that. I’m sure he would be happy to come see you.” His dad hadn’t been to see Nate since they came up together for Rose’s funeral, before Nate fell deeper into his dementia.

“Maybe he’ll bring his little boy with him.” Well, it had been a long time since anyone called Stiles a little boy.

“I’ll make sure he brings your grandson with him.” He assured the older man. “I’m sorry that I can’t stay longer, but I have to go.”

“Oh, okay.” Nate nodded as Stiles stood, but tensed when Stiles leaned down to give him a small hug.

“I’ll come see you soon.” He promised.

“That would be nice. Are you from the church?”

“No, I’m not.” He said sadly. “Bye, Grandpa.”

* * *

 

He had only gone into the station to pick up a file he left there. He planned for it to be an in and out trip, which is why he brought Abel along. He did not intend to be stuck doing paperwork, or to have Abel sit on his office floor playing with legos while he waited for him to finish.

“Are these uncle Stiles toys?” The boy held up a handful of blocks to show him.

“They used to be.” Parrish had found them covered in dust shoved in the back of a storage closet. They could only be the set he kept at the station specifically to keep Stiles occupied as a child.

“Why are they here and not at your house?”

“He came to work with me a lot when he was your age and I wanted him to have something to play with, so I bought him those.” If Claudia was away on assignment, then Stiles would accompany him to work. They tried leaving him with a babysitter but none of them ever worked out. “He had twice as many legos at home. He would spend hours building something then knock it all down and start over again the next day.”

“Is Uncle coming home soon?”

“I hope so.” He was hoping to spend some time with him before he left for school. “I hope he does. I miss that kid.”

“Can we call him?” Abel asked just as John’s office phone rang. “Is that him?”

“No, it’s not him.” He said before picking up the receiver. “Stilinski.”

_“John, it’s Tyne Patterson.”_

“I wasn’t expecting a call from you.” It was rather concerning. “How can I help you?”

_“I’m trying to get a hold of your son, but he’s not answering my calls.”_

“I haven’t heard from him since yesterday morning.” He didn’t check in like he said he would. “Is something wrong?”

 _“He came into my office yesterday to make a deal. He wanted me to transfer Juan Carlos Ortiz, and in return he would give me Dr. Knowles killer and evidence against Althea Jarry.”_ She informed him.

“Was there a problem with the transfer or the deal?” It was all news to him. Stiles hadn’t told him anything about making a deal.

 _“I’m afraid so. I won’t be able to follow through on my end.”_ Which meant there was no deal at all.

“You can’t get the transfer approved?”

 _“It was approved.”_ So what was the problem? _“But it was too late.”_

“What does that mean?”

_“Ortiz was killed this afternoon. He was stabbed repeatedly in the throat by another inmate.”_

“Jesus.” That was going to break Stiles. “Thank you for letting me know. I will tell Stiles.”

_“I understand that this is going to be a difficult time for your son, but if he has information on who killed Tara Knowles – “_

“I’ll find out what I can.” He lied.

 _“I appreciate that.”_ John hung up the phone before either of them could say anything more.

He ran a hand through his hair as he tried to figure out exactly how he was going to tell his son that Juice was dead. They had all known this would be a possibility when Juice went back to Charming, yet somehow they all tried to remain optimistic about it. Stiles had to have known something was going to happen, given the deal he had tried to make.

“What’s wrong?” Abel’s small voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Did someone else die?”

* * *

 

He lowered himself down onto the sheet covered arm chair. He didn’t take his eyes off Gemma, who seemed engrossed in what she was doing. She had pictures scattered across the floor, the one in her hands she was looking at with adoration. She looked so far away, as if she was already dead and this was just an echo of who she had been a long time ago.

“You said that you would tell me one day.” She acknowledged his presence for the first time since he had come in.

“Tell you what?”

“Why you wouldn’t patch into the club.” It always came back to that with them, didn’t it?

“Jax would never have me now.” None of them would.

“I don’t care about now.” She told him. “Tell me why would wouldn’t, even if he would let you.”

“In Beacon Hills, with the pack, I’ve always known my place. I’m the researcher and the planner.” He did what he could to help them. “When things get violent, bloody, I know when to put myself in the fight and when to stand down.”

“You don’t know how to stand down.” She smirked.

“I’m not a wolf, a fox, a coyote, or anything else supernatural.” Not anymore at least. “I don’t have super strength or accelerated healing. I’m not like my friends and I don’t want to be.”

“You don’t need any of that, or to be like them, to be strong.”

“I am always going to be the one that’s different.” His normality made him the abnormal one in his group. “It doesn’t matter how long I have been friends with Scott or how useful I can be. I am always going to be the odd one out.”

“Is that what your friends think?” He shrugged his shoulders, not knowing how to answer that. “Feeling like an outcast in your pack seems like a vote for SAMCRO, not against them.”

“I could patch in. I could be a Son. I could sit at the table and wear the kutte.” He might even enjoy it for a little while. “I could follow Jax’s orders. I could broker deals with other MCs.”

“You have already done that last one since you’ve been back.” He didn’t really think an ammunition buy from the Calaveras was that big of a deal but others saw it as some sort of rite of passage.

“I could put a gun to someone’s head, pull the trigger, and walk away. I would feel remorse, but I would find a way to justify it and move on with my life.” He had already done that as well, but he couldn’t say he felt much remorse for killing Kate Argent. “I could be a Son. I would be right at home at Jax’s side with a reaper on my back. Being part of a group that didn’t second guess my every decision, that didn’t underestimate me, would be nice.”

“I’m not seeing a problem here.”

“It would be easy to patch SAMCRO.” It would have been, before his truth came out. “The thing is, I don’t really like easy. I don’t like simple. I work better, my mind is calmest, in the midst of chaos.”

“That’s a family trait, baby.” That was probably true.

“SAMCRO would get repetitive and boring. It would be one revenge ploy or business deal gone south after another.” It had been like that from the start and it had only gotten worse over the years. “With the pack, there is always something new trying to kill me. Things I never would have believed in will make their way to town and I will have to learn about them. They won’t all be evil, some could be allies. Maybe we can turn some of the bad ones around, get them on the right side of things.”

“People like us don’t live on the right side of things. We exist in shades of grey, sweetheart.” He may not live entirely on the light side of good and evil, but that did not mean he wouldn’t help others live on it. “It is one more things that makes you the odd one out with your friends.”

“Odd one out or not, I will still have a purpose.” That was what you looked for in life, right? “I’ll help protect the town and save some lives.”

“At what cost? Your sanity? Your own life?” With his luck it would be both if he chose to stay with the pack.

“Probably. I could always end up like Jax.” Patch or no patch, pack or no pack, that was still a path he could end up on. “I could wake up every morning, feeling decades older than I am. I’ll wonder how I ended up in hell, and then I will remember every step that took me to that point, and I’ll wish I never woke up at all.”

“Jax doesn’t feel like that.”

“Yes, he does, and so do you.” He was willing to bet JT felt the same way before his death. “You never know, I could end up like Opie. I could die saving my friends, my family, from the people that would hurt them. Or, I could die alone, at the hands of a traitor, like Piney.”

“Do not martyr yourself for those people.” Gemma advised. “Only blood deserves that kind of sacrifice.”

“Should I go out like Tara then? Maybe my own pack member will be the one to take me out.” A full moon gone bad, perhaps. “Things could get very bad and I’ll want out of the life, the danger, and someone won’t like it. I could die bloodied and beaten on my kitchen floor, courtesy of someone I loved.”

“I’m not really sure how we got from you joining the club to all the ways you could die.”

“Because it doesn’t matter if I join SAMCRO or stay with the pack. I am going to die bloody either way. The only thing that matters is what I’m dying for.” There was a big difference between being shot up for a club beef or stepping in front of a set of claws for an innocent. “It does not matter how I end up, not really. I just need to be able to live with myself at the end of the day. Whether I choose the club or the pack, or neither at all, I want to be able to look into the mirror, see the person I have become, and at least know that I tried to be better. I want to know that I tried to save lives not take them.”

“Jax and JT tried to change things, tried to bring the club out of all the violence.” She reminded him. “They tried to be better. Look how well that turned out.”

“Jax stopped trying and JT was killed before he could finish what he started.” He was murdered before he could bring the club out of guns and cut ties with the Irish Kings. “You and Clay stopped him because you liked the cash flow too much to put an end to guns.”

“It wasn’t about the money.” She stated, but didn’t explain further.

“Jax still doesn’t know about your role in his father’s death.” He could not say he felt up to telling his brother about that sin now. “That is one thing you won’t have to answer for.”

“Answer for…is that what this is?” She reached up and trailed a finger down his swollen jaw. “Was this your punishment? Did Jax do that?”

“I told him everything yesterday. He had to do it.” It could have been so much worse. He almost wished it had been.

“Why yesterday?”

“He ordered Juice’s death after finding out the truth about Tara’s murder and the lies that came with it.” He dug his nails into the skin of his hands, trying to push the memories of the day before out of his mind. “I thought I could trade my sins for his life.”

“How did that work out for you?”

“Not so hot.”

“You wanted him to hurt you.” She theorized. “Did you want him to kill you?”

“No.” He wasn’t suicidal. “Do you?”

“I know what I have to do to pay for my sins.” That sounded remarkably like what Juice had said to him when Stiles had tried to talk him out of going to jail. “Has to be done.”

“You are so weak.” Her eyes shot up to meet his at that. “I’ve thought you were a lot of things, Gemma, but weak was never one of them until now.”

“How am I weak?”

“You are going to let Jax kill you because you can’t live with yourself. You cannot live with the guilt of what you did to Tara.” She may not totally regret it, but at the very least, she felt bad about the damage it had caused. “You can’t live with your sons hate.”

“I’ve lived with yours.” Well, that was familiar territory, wasn’t it? She had told him that once before.

“Two entirely different types of hate. You killed Jax’s wife, left his boys without a mother. His hate hits much deeper than mine.” There was absolutely no comparison between the two. “My dislike for you stems from an intense amount of confusion, not murder. It doesn’t even rate on the same scale as Jax’s.”

“Here I thought it was because I told you the truth.”

“I was confused because you told me the truth.” What eight year old wouldn’t be? “But it wasn’t because you told me Claudia wasn’t my mother. I wasn’t stupid, I was at her wedding to my dad. I knew she wasn’t my mother by normal standards.”

“Then what was it that confused you?” She asked with genuine interest.

“I didn’t understand why.” That’s what it came down to, honestly. “After you told me, the only thing I needed to know was why. No one but you could give me that answer, but you didn’t.”

“Why did I tell you?” She questioned. “Or, why was I your mother?”

“Why wasn’t I worthy of you?”

It was the one question that sat in the back of his mind for ten years. He had always bit back the urge to ask, too afraid of the answer. Now he was faced with the need to ask or live forever without an answer. If he got one thing from Gemma, it would be that answer.

“When I was little, I watched Jax with you. I saw how much he loved and adored you, and how you loved him in return. I wanted that so badly.” It was the reason he felt drawn to her as a child. “I wanted you to love me like that.”

“I did.” Gemma assured him. “I still do.”

“I didn’t know that.” How could he? “I thought that you couldn’t love me like you loved him, because I wasn’t your son. I also saw how you were with the club, how much you loved them, but again I didn't think you could love me like that because I wasn't a Son. I understood that, but then…”

“Then I told you that you were my boy.”

“It shattered everything I knew. Up until that point you had treated me like a nuisance when I went looking to you for attention.” She had always brushed him off like an annoyance. “Your dislike of me never really deterred me. It made my want to fix whatever it was you didn’t like about me.”

“There was nothing wrong with you, sweetheart.”

“Jax, Opie, Chibs, Tig, Bobby… All of them were worthy of your love.” His voice grew hoarse as he continued. “All that time I was your son, I wanted you to be my mother, and you pushed me away. You wouldn’t acknowledge me until I received that love and affection from someone else. You were jealous, so you tried to demean her love for me when she was gone. You tried to take that from me and I hated you so much for that.”

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

“I was so angry and confused because I didn’t understand why. I didn’t know why you would take something that she gave me that you wouldn’t.” He blinked away the tears that were forming in his eyes as he went on. “It had to be because you thought I didn’t deserve to be loved, that I did not deserve to have a mother.”

“Stiles, I never thought that.” She vowed. “I promise you.”

“Then why? Why did you play mom, and love every person who wore a patch, but not me?” He cursed himself as a single tear rolled down his cheek. “Why wasn’t I worthy, Gem?”

He listened to Gemma let out a breathy sob as she looked away from him. She removed her glasses and pressed her fingertips to her eyes. Her silence told him very little, but the way her body shook made him believe she was struggling to answer honestly or to give him another lie. She opened her mouth to speak, but it snapped quickly shut when the front door swung open behind her.

“I didn’t see the car, Gemma. I saw the jeep though.” Unser chuckled, like he hadn’t just walked in on the conversation Stiles had been waiting to have since he was a little boy. The son of a bitch. “I wasn’t sure if you were here or not.”

“I’m here.” Gemma told him, dropping her gaze back down to the photographs spread across the floor.

“What are you doing here, Gem?”

“You’re a smart man, Wayne. I’m sure you know the answer to that.”

“Mmm.” Unser nodded, turning an accusing look on Stiles. “You were supposed to get her out of here if you found her.”

“You weren’t supposed to come up here.” He scrubbed a fist against his eyes, to hiding any physical traces of the emotional conversation he and Gemma left unfinished.

“I didn’t trust you to do right by her.” The former chief grumbled. “I need you to come with me, Gemma.”

“I can’t do that.” She sniffled.

“I know about Tara.” Wayne admitted.

“I assumed you did.” She replied. “Everyone does now.”

“Should I ask why?” It was a testament to how good of a cop he once was that he hadn’t figured that out yet.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“No. It doesn’t.” He agreed. “I have to arrest you, Gemma.”

“Johnny tried that yesterday.” Gemma said to Stiles surprise. “I’m still free.”

“Free?” Unser scoffed. “Jax is on his way. He finds you here, I don’t know what happens.”

“I do.”

“Don’t make me call the local cops. Please.” Wayne pleaded with her. “Let’s do this quietly.”

“Not really my style, sweetheart.” Gemma told him. “You do what you need to do.”

Unser did not get the chance to do what he felt was necessary, before Jax showed up. Stiles and Gemma both froze in place the moment that Jax came through the door. Neither of them seemed daring enough to move a muscle as he made his way in. He wasn’t sure why, though, it wasn’t as if Jax was going to pull his gun and put bullets in each of them the minute they took a breath.

“I’m arresting her, son. Taking her back to Charming.” Unser said with obvious agitation.

“I need to be alone with my mother.” Jax spared Stiles a glance. “And my baby brother. This is a family issue.”

“I can’t do that. I can’t let that happen. I- I already called it in to the Oregon State Police.” Wayne lied.

“No, he didn’t.” Stiles and Gemma said together.

“Get out of here, Unser.” Jax ordered.

“No.” Wayne whipped his revolver out, pointing it at Jax, as he urged Gemma to go along with him. “Get up. Come on. Get up. Let’s go. You’re going with me.”

Stiles trained his gaze on the weapon that was directed at his brother. It made him twitchy and nervous. He may not be in the best standing with Jax, but he did not want to see him hurt, and if Wayne would kill for anyone, it would be Gemma. He gripped the arms of his chair, prepared to lunge upward, to turn Unser’s attention on him and off Jax. His brother halted him with a cue, a subtle hand movement that told him clearly to stop, not to do anything, before Jax brandished a gun of his own.

“What happens now, son?” Unser leveled his weapon with Jax’s.

“This is between me and my mom.” Jax said simply.

“Haven’t we had enough of this? Look where we are, Jax. What we’ve all become.” They were all the worst versions of themselves. Hell, maybe Stiles was too. “This has to end. Here.”

“I know. I know.” Jax did know. He had lost the most in this war and that list included himself. “Go home, Wayne.”

“I can’t do that. This is all I’ve got left.” Unser admitted desperately.

It said something about how ingrained he was in Jax and Gemma’s world that he did not make a move to help Wayne when he saw what Jax had decided to do. He only watched as Jax pulled the trigger, aimed at Unser’s chest. His father would probably be disappointed by Stiles complete lack of reaction as he watched red paint Wayne’s chest when his body hit the floor with a thud.

Stiles wanted to feel bad, but Unser’s life had been leading here. His care for Gemma was always going to be the reason for his demise. Maybe it was better that way. He could finally be away from the life he hated. That’s what you were supposed to think at times like this, right?

Jax stepped around Unser and Gemma, stopping in front of Stiles. For a moment, he thought Jax might use the gun he still held on him, in retaliation for everything he had done. His fears proved unfounded when Jax hid the weapon in the waistband of his jeans. He watched his brother shove a hand in the pocket of his kutte, where he usually kept his cigarettes, and root around until he found what he was looking for and held it out to Stiles.

“You should have these.” Jax told him as he dropped the contents into Stiles palm.

He squeezed the objects in his hand as Jax sat down in the chair beside him. He couldn’t hear what Gemma began to say to Jax. He could not focus on anything but what he was just given. He let out of a shuddering breath as he opened his fingers to view exactly what his brother had handed over.

The SONS OF ANARCHY and MEN OF MAYHEM patches glared up at him. They signified every call he didn’t answer from Patterson and his dad today. It was the notification from County that he would be receiving soon. They were his brother’s way of telling him that Juice was dead and he wasn’t coming back.

A nudge against his foot brought him back to the room. He looked down to see Jax’s white sneaker settled against his own. For whatever reason, Jax was offering him a lifeline with that simple move. He was keeping him present, out of his head, and away from the grief that was sure to bury him later.

“I loved Tara very much.” He heard Gemma tell his brother.

“Don’t.” Jax warned.

“This is not an excuse. I’m not defending myself.” She confessed. “I barely remember what happened that night.”

“But it happened.” Her lack of recognition did not change what she had done.

“Yes. It did. And all the other things because of the lie,” All the pain and the death, it came because she could not admit to what she had done. “I never saw any of that coming. I know there’s no apology that can touch what you’re feeling, Jackson.”

Gemma seemed to study Jax for a moment before standing. She took in her surroundings, her father’s home, as if she was committing it to memory.

“I’d like to go out to the garden, if that’s okay.” Jax gave her a nod of his approval before he stood as well.

Gemma gathered her bearings, giving a small glance to Wayne’s corpse as she started for the back door. She stopped before she went far, turned on her heels, and made her way back into the living room. She stared down at Stiles with ancient eyes, cupping his face in her hands.

“You were always worthy, baby. Always.” She placed a small kiss to his cheek before whispering into his ear. “It was me who wasn’t. I was unworthy of you.”

Stiles was left with Gemma’s words in his head and more questions than answers, as he watched her retreat out to the backyard. He felt fingers against his scalp and looked up to meet his brothers eyes. Jax leaned down and grasped both Stiles hands in his, bringing them up until they covered his ears. The meaning was clear, he did not want Stiles to hear what was about to happen. His hands would do little to cover the sound of gunfire, but the halfhearted attempt to protect him from it told Stiles that Jax still trying to be his big brother, despite what he had done.

He felt torn as he watched Jax walk the same path out of the room that Gemma had. On one hand, he had promised Gemma before that he was not going to let Jax hurt her. On the other, he understood why this had to happen, why his brother needed to do this. There another factor here, though, that none of them had taken into account yet.

Gemma was standing by the rose bushes as Stiles rushed out of the house. Jax had his gun drawn, aimed at the back of her skull, but he was hesitating. His hand wasn’t steady, and when Stiles came around he saw the gut-wrenching pain so visible on his brothers face.

“Jax,” Stiles placed a cautious hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Don’t do this.”

“You have to do this, Jackson.” Gemma countered. “It’s who we are, sweetheart.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” Stiles stepped closer to his brother, taking his attention away from Gemma. “Don’t kill her, Jax. Please.”

“You want me to let her go?” Jax asked betrayal heavier in his tone now than it had been at the table the day before.

“No. She doesn’t go free.” Letting her walk was never the plan. “I made some calls when I learned that it was her who killed Tara. I made arrangements for her to go away.”

“Go where? Jail?”

“The supernatural wing of Eichen House.” Patients were not released from the bottom floors of the supernatural wing. They were the ones who could not be rehabilitated. They were lifers, like Peter Hale. “It would be complete isolation. The only people she would have contact with are doctors and nurses.

“Why?” Jax questioned. “Why keep her alive? Why should I let you take her to a mental institution?”

“Death is too easy a punishment for what she did.” For all of the things she had done in the past. “She deserves to suffer. What is worse for her than being alone, without her family?”

“I don’t want her to suffer.” Jax still loved her, even after what she had done to Tara, because she was still his mother.

“Think about your sons. They should get a chance to look her in the eye, when they are old enough, and tell her how much they hate her for killing their mother. And Abel,” If Jax killed Gemma after learning the truth from his son… “You would be putting her death on his head. He will figure that out when he’s older. He will know his truth signed her death warrant. That guilt will destroy him, the same way killing her will destroy you.”

Jax faltered, lowered the gun just a fraction of an inch. The indecision, the sadness, written on his face was enough to shatter what was left of Stiles already broken heart. He tried to bring clarity to the situation, to show Jax the consequences of revenge, but he only seemed to be causing him more pain.

“It’s what we do, sweetheart.” Gemma repeated. “It’s okay. My baby boys.”

“Stop thinking like a Son.” Stiles urged his brother. “Think like a father.”

“You could never stop this, Nathaniel.” He flinched at the name Gemma used to address him. “And that’s okay.”

“Jackson,” He tried once more. “You will not be able to live with yourself if you do this. Your boys cannot live without you and neither can I. So, please…”

“It’s time.” Gemma said as she took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the end here, folks.  
> [TUMBLR](http://www.stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/)  
> [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/user/SandM1827/)  
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos, they are greatly appreciated.


	13. I Curse That Raven's Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd.  
> Chapter Title: Come Join the Murders by The White Buffalo and The Forest Rangers  
> Gif Sets: [She's Gone](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/113466744814/mama-gemma-au-shes-gone-28-chapter-13), [Make Sure It Means Something](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/113555075239/mama-gemma-au-make-sure-it-means-something-29), [Save My Boys, Stiles](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/113774462179/mama-gemma-au-save-my-boys-stiles-30-chapter).

He woke up as he had gone to sleep, alone. The house was quiet, but without the eeriness he had grown accustomed to. It was almost peaceful. It was nice, made him feel almost normal for the first time in months. He forced himself out of bed, though. He could not put off the day for a few extra minutes of tranquility. There was just too much to do, too much to get in order before he could rest.

He was going to visit his wife and best friend first thing. He had to see the DA, to clear up any confusion about what had happened to Tara, before heading off to Beacon Hills to see his boys. There was a new member to patch in, before a vote on his own fate would pass when he returned to Charming. Cutting ties with the Irish Kings and settling the score with Marks would come later in the day.

He tried to get through his morning routine as if it were any other day, but he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander his surroundings. He took in every detail of his bedroom, from the unmade bed to the pictures taped to the mirror. He took the time to smell Tara’s bottled perfume, which still sat on the dresser where she had left it. He let his fingers trail against the spine of his journals as he loaded them into his backpack. He gave the bedroom one last glance before closing the door, for what would probably be the last time.

He walked down the hall, taking in decor of the place that had been his home for the entirety of his adult life. He stopped at Abel’s room, finding his sons things still in their rightful places but Abel was not. He expected to find Thomas’s nursery in the same condition, but was pleasantly surprised when he did not.

Stiles was asleep on the daybed. He must have shown up after Jax had gone to bed. Rather than sleeping on the couch in the living room or curling up in Abel’s bed, he had gravitated to what had originally been his room.

Jax noticed a book discarded on the floor, probably having fallen out of Stiles grasp sometime in the night. He picked it up and saw it was a photo album, _The Boys,_ labeled across the front cover. He could only assume it was one of the many albums that Tara had put together when she was bored and on maternity leave while pregnant with his son.

The first page of the book showed him a picture of him and his younger brother Thomas. It was taken in a hospital room, right after the child's birth. He was just a little boy in the photo, with a wide smile and bright eyes, looking down at the baby in his arms like he was the most amazing thing to ever happen.

The picture on the next page wasn’t unlike the first. It was the same hospital, the same pose, but a different brother and a different version of him. He was a teenager, holding Stiles as if he would break. There was no smile, no amazement, but a look of sheer determination gracing his face. He was so damn determined to keep Stiles safe, because there had been no way to protect Thomas from a disease that had racked his body.

Abel was in the next photograph, fresh out of the incubator lying in the arms of his uncle. They were both so innocent then, before Abel had been kidnapped and before werewolves took over Stiles life. The look on his brother’s face mirrored his own from the previous photo, one that promised protection from anything that would cause the child he was holding harm.

He closed the book without going further, setting it down on the changing table. He took a long look at his baby brother and saw more than he probably wanted to. He saw the tightness around his eyes, the visible pain. Stiles gave away much more in his sleep then he ever would while awake. He couldn’t help but run a hand through the younger mans hair, trying to soothe away some of his stress.

“Jax?” Stiles mumbled as his eyelids began to flutter.

“Go back to sleep.” He urged, hoping Stiles would fall to sleep as easily as he had woken up.

“Time is it?”

“Early. Go back to sleep.” He grabbed the fleece blanket off the rocking chair, covering his brother with it.

“Need to talk.”

“Later.” He dropped a kiss to Stiles forehead. “I promise we will talk later.”

“’Kay.”

* * *

Stiles did not sulk. He did not break down the moment bad news made itself known. He remained calm and in control when his father had been shot, through the surgery that followed, until he was home, alone, and confident he would be okay. He did not shutdown after hearing of Tara’s death, he waited until Scott and Kira were safe in the arms of their parents, until Peter was locked away at Eichen House, before he let himself feel it.

So, when he woke up alone at Jax’s house, with his husbands patches in his pockets, he didn’t cry himself back to sleep. He did not yell, scream, or ask a higher power why. It was not how he was built. He had to do what needed doing before he could grieve.

Still, it was probably odd to some people that he was doing this now. That he had boxes and plastic tubs strewn across the floor of Juice's home, the contents of the house being carefully placed in them. The kitchen was finished, everything gone save for the coffee pot and a single mug. Most of the miscellaneous items in the living room were packed away into moving tubs as well. He was putting away the last of the Xbox games from the entertainment center when his cell rang.

“Hello?” He answered without checking the ID, hoping it was not someone calling to check up on him.

_“It’s Tyne Patterson, Mr. Stilinski.”_

“If this is about Juan Carlos, I already know.” Jax had told him in his own way, and his father had given him the details earlier on the phone.

_“It’s about Ron Tully.”_

“What about him?”

_“He wants a meeting with you and Lt. Jarry.”_

“What?” Why the hell would he want that? More importantly, why was Patterson even considering it?

_“His lawyer informed me that he had information about several murders, but he will only give it to you and Jarry.”_

“Tully is the last person I want to see right now.” County was the last place he wanted to be.

 _“I understand your hesitance.”_ She really didn’t. _“But if he can help us close open murder cases, it could help a lot of families looking for answers.”_

“It also helps your conviction rate.” Which was seriously lacking. “What does he get out of this? He didn’t wake up this morning and decide to be an upstanding member of society. He has to want something. A few years shaved off his sentence, or what?”

 _“Currently he is in prison for life with possibility of parole in twenty-five years. However, we recently found evidence in past crimes that will take parole off the table completely. He is not ever getting out of jail if everything goes the way it should.”_ Given her record of accomplishment, he doubted things worked out the way she wanted them to.

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Tully had to want something.

_“He gets you.”_

“I’m sorry?” He was sure he had not heard that correctly.

_“His only request was that you be there.”_

“That doesn’t seem the least bit suspicious to you?” It was sure as fuck setting off alarm bells in his head.

 _“Of course it does, but I am willing to take a few risks to bring some families closure.”_ That was easy for her to say, it wasn’t her life she was risking. _“I guarantee that you will be one-hundred percent safe.”_

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He retorted sarcastically.

 _“Will you help me, Mr. Stilinski?”_ She questioned. _“Help other families that lost people close to them because of the same violence Tara Knowles died trying to save her boys from?”_

“You don’t know anything about her death.” It was a nice try with the guilt trip though.

 _“On the contrary, your brother told me everything this morning_.” Well, that was unexpected. “ _I know Gemma Teller killed Dr. Knowles to keep her from turning on the club and taking her grandchildren.”_

“Is that all he told you?” He asked curiously.

 _“He said that Gemma also killed Eli Roosevelt, to keep him from taking her in."_ Wait, what? Jax gave up Gemma for Tara’s murder and implicated her for Roosevelt’s?

“Oh.”

 _“I know I was too late to help Mr. Ortiz, but I will follow through with the rest of our deal. I will launch a full investigation on Lt. Jarry with the information you gave me.”_ She didn’t have much of a choice. If she didn’t, he would go public with it all. _“But I need to do this first. Will you help me?”_

“Fine.” He gave in. “When?”

_“Two o’clock this afternoon.”_

“I’ll be there.”

* * *

 

The front door of John’s house was wide open as Jax walked up the porch. Stiles friends, his pack, were coming in and out, carrying groceries and bags of barbecue coals. None of them paid him any mind as he stepped inside. He found John in the kitchen, directing the traffic of people with Thomas resting on his hip.

“Everything goes in the backyard. There are ice chests out there for the things that need to stay cold. I would appreciate it if you would use the gate instead of coming in and out of the house. It’s not like the air conditioner is on or anything.” John said with a wave of his hand, his tone suggesting he had given this particular instruction many times already.

“They would probably listen better if you wore the uniform.” Jax reasoned, alerting the older man to his presence.

“I don’t wear my uniform on my day off.” John said as he turned toward him. “Did you come for the boys?”

“I just wanted to see them.”

“Abel and Wendy are at the store with Lydia and Kira, helping them pick up cake and ice cream. They should be back soon.” He told Jax as he held out the baby to him.

“Is there somewhere we can talk?” He questioned, taking Thomas into his arms.

“Dining room? No one will bother us if they know what’s good for them.” Jax couldn’t help but chuckle at the irritation in the older man’s voice.

“Okay.”

John led him to the small room beside the kitchen, where he pulled two chairs away from the table. Jax dropped his bag to the floor next to it as he took a seat. He sat Thomas down on his lap, bouncing his knee in the way he knew the boy liked.

“Have you talked to Stiles?”

“This morning. He let me know he was okay and that he knew about Juice. He asked me not to go down to Charming and to make sure his friends didn’t either. I was going to cancel the barbecue but I figure it’s the only thing that’s going to keep them occupied.” John said as he sat down. “Have you seen him?”

“We were together last night.” He didn’t know how much Stiles had told his father, but he assumed the older man would find it all out eventually. "At Nate's house with Gemma."

“Should I ask what happened to Gemma?” John’s voice alternated between the tone of a sheriff and that of a father.

“She’s been taken care of.”

“What does that mean?”

“She can’t hurt anyone anymore.”

“Stiles was with you when this happened?” Jax nodded. “Does he need a lawyer?”

“No.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I already talked to Patterson about it.” He had left Stiles name out of it.

“What are you doing, Jackson?”

He kept an arm around Thomas as he leaned down to grab his pack. He unzipped the back pocket, retrieving the paperwork he had stuffed in there that morning. He handed them off to John, who looked confused as he took them.

“What is this?”

“The deeds to the houses, the title to the Volvo, life insurance policies, ownership of TM and my piece of Red Woody. It all belongs to Stiles now. He’s the last one standing.” The last one besides the boys, but they were too young to take responsibility for any of it. “Gemma’s things will default to Stiles as well. Chibs and Tig will take care of my service. I asked them to take care of Juice’s plot too, so Stiles doesn’t have to.”

“Jax – “

“My lawyer is taking care of the custody papers for the boys.” They were his brother's now as well. “I wanted everything to be in order for tonight.”

“What happens tonight?” Stiles got his brains from John, so Jax knew the older man already had the answer to that question.

“The bad guy loses.” He smiled sadly. “I need a favor.”

“What is it?”

“I need the Teller legacy, my legacy, to end with me.” It had to end with him, or else all of this was pointless. “They can never know, can never want, the life I have led. If it’s okay with you, I want them to follow their uncle’s legacy, the Stilinski legacy.”

“Somehow I don’t think you mean following in Stiles footsteps.”

“The Teller name comes with a price, a burden that I don’t want Abel or Thomas to carry. People hear the name Teller and they think SAMCRO or Tara’s murder. Abel was picked on at school after Tara was killed, because they knew who he was by his last name being flashed all over the news.” He didn’t want that to happen again. “I want him to start over, with a new name, one that connects him to a respectable sheriff, not an outlaw or victim.”

“You want to change their last names to Stilinski?” John raised his brows in surprise. “I understand why, but do you realize how confused Abel will be by this? He’s already confused when I try to explain to him that I am not his grandfather-“

“He will get over the confusion and understand when he’s older.” It's what he hoped at least. “If you aren’t comfortable with it, then Knowles would be my second choice, to honor Tara. I will do anything to get them away from the reputation that comes with being a Teller.”

“I’m comfortable with it. I would be happy for them to hold the Stilinski name.” John assured him. “I’m just worried about how this is going to affect Abel.”

“I know.” His oldest son had been through more than enough, his head was filled with things he didn’t understand, and there was only more coming. “I trust you and Stiles to help him make sense of everything.”

“We’ll try.”

“I don’t mind the other thing, Abel calling you grandpa.” Abel and Thomas deserved one grandparent that would look out for their wellbeing, and John was as good as you could get in that department. “You’re really good to them. If you want to be their grandfather, I am okay with it. My dad would be too.”

“I would like that.” John’s eyes found Thomas, who seemed content to bounce on Jax’s knee. “Does Stiles know what you are doing?”

“Not yet. I have some things I have to take care of with the club, and then Stiles is who I’m going to see.”

“What are you going to tell him?”

“The truth.” Stiles wouldn’t accept anything less. “I owe him that.”

“Christ, Jax.” John sighed tiredly. “If you need to get out, I can make a few calls. I can get a hold of Witness Protection. You could make a deal – “

“This is my decision. I’m not going to rat.” He would not disgrace himself in the eyes of his club. “I did something, hurt someone, and I have to answer for that.”

“Tell me what you did and you can answer for it in a court of law.” The older man said it like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“I can’t do that. It is not the way my world works.”

“Your world sucks.”

“Yeah, it does sometimes.”

The conversation fell to silence as Jax turned his attention to Thomas. He held him close, tried to memorize his face in his mind, tried to find pieces of Tara on his youngest boys face.

A car door slamming outside, followed by a child’s laughter, startled both he and his son.

“That will be Abel and the girls.” John stated.

“I need to see him.” Jax started to stand, but a hand grasping his arm stopped him.

“Just a minute, okay?” John gestured for him to remain sitting. “I need you to remember something, when you talk to Stiles.”

“Okay.”

“You have had Stiles for a little brother for the last eighteen years. Stiles has had you for a big brother his _entire_ life. There was never a moment in his life when he didn’t have you.” Jax could not stop the tears from forming in his eyes as John spoke. “He is going to live with what you say to him, your last moments with him, for the rest of his life. Make sure it means something.”

“I will.”

* * *

 

He took a detour to Diosa on his way to County. The parking lot was empty, save for Nero’s pick-up. The inside was equally deserted, not a soul in sight as Stiles came through the unlocked door.

“Nero?” He called out to the empty room.

“Back here!”

Stiles followed the sound of the voice into one of the back rooms. It was either the apartment or a ‘massage’ room, Stiles couldn’t tell. Nero was in the corner, loading up a box full of books.

“Hey Stiles.” He greeted. “I uh, I wasn’t expecting anyone.

“Sorry to just drop by.” He shoved his hands in his pockets nervously. “You weren’t at the house.”

“This about Gem?”

“Yeah.”

“Did Jax do it?”

“She’s gone.” Nero hung his head at the words.

“Was it quick?”

“Yes.”

“Is it what you would have done?” Nero asked suddenly. “If you were in Jax’s position, would you have killed her?”

“No.”

“You would have shown her mercy?”

“Jax’s way was mercy.” He and his brother both understood that death was the easy way out for Gemma. “She would never be able to living knowing she lost her family. Mercy was putting her out of her misery. Jax didn’t want her to suffer.”

“Jesus.”

He let Nero have a moment to understand the meaning behind that. If Jax showed her mercy by ending her life then Stiles had more or less admitted his way would have been torture. To Gemma, living without her family, would be the worst punishment imaginable.

“I’m sorry.” It was all he could think to say, a worthless attempt at comfort. He didn’t have it in him to offer any more than that.

“Yeah, me too.” Nero said with a sniffle.

Stiles looked away, let him have a moment to get a hold of himself. He let his eyes take in the room until a cage by the window caught his eye. He made his way over to it, studying the beauty of the two lovebirds chirping away inside.

“Are these hers?”

“Yeah, I bought them for her but she didn’t think they would get along with her crows, so she left them here. One of the girls who worked for me was going to take them, but it didn’t work out.” Nero admitted. “You want them?”

“Can I?” He asked hesitantly, as if he wasn’t allowed.

“Of course. They’re yours.”

“Thanks.” He didn’t know what possessed him to want to take the birds home with him, maybe the boys would like them, maybe for some other psychological reason that he wasn't ready to admit to.

“Carl and Carla, that’s what Gemma wanted me to name them.” Nero told him. “I can get their stuff together, if you want to take them now.”

“Could you take them to Gemma’s for me?” He would have to make his way to Gemma’s sooner or later to get her things in order. “I can’t take them with me. I have a meeting to go to.”

“Okay. I would like to help, with arrangements for Gemma, or whatever else you guys need.” The older man offered.

“There won’t be a funeral or anything. Jax wants to handle that personally.” SAMCRO did not give proper funerals to the people they saw as traitors, so Gemma wouldn’t be getting one either. “I’m sure we could use some help with the house, though. I already have one to pack up and I don’t know if Jax can bring himself to go inside of Gemma’s.”

“I can do that.” Nero assured him. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” He said sincerely.

“You going back home soon, to Beacon Hills?”

“Have to finish up here and then I will.” He had to bury Juice before he left, something he would more than likely be doing alone.

“Are you keeping the boys?”

“I still have to talk that out with Jax, but, yeah, I think so.” He did not think he brother would put up much of a fight on that front anymore. “You still going to Norco?”

“Yeah. I would like to keep in touch with you and the kids. Maybe you can bring them down to my ranch.” Nero suggested.

“Sure.” It was more for the kids than for him he was sure. He and Nero hadn’t exactly bonded during his time in Charming.

“I would be happy to babysit when you need a break, during finals or something.”

“I’ll give you a call.”

“You do that.”

“I hope things work out in Norco, for you and your son. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you and Gem.”

* * *

 

The black van pulled in beside her SUV a half-hour later than scheduled. They agreed to meet at the abandon rest stop off the highway, and Cora had been the only one to show up on time. Her brother flashed an apologetic look at her when he climbed out of the car.

“Hey.” He gave her what passed for a hug in the Hale family. “Thanks for coming.”

“No problem.” She didn’t wait for them to get the ball rolling, instead opening the back doors to the van herself and looking at its contents. “Is he dead?”

“Not technically.” The woman who had driven the vehicle answered. “I’m Braeden, by the way.”

“Deaton gave him something to suppress his wolf while he was locked up. He gave us the antidote to give him when he got out. It's working, bringing out his wolf, but it takes a little time.” Derek explained and pulled the collar down on the man’s shirt to reveal his wounded neck. “It’s healing. It should be gone in a few hours.”

“If his wolf has been suppressed since he turned then he is going to have a major control problem when he wakes up.” She deduced. “And I will be stuck in a car with him.”

“He’s chained up in case something happens. There’s a sedative in the kit if you have any problems.” Derek handed a dufflebag over to her. “There are clothes for him and money for a motel room, so you’re not on the road all night.”

“He needs to wear a hat and long sleeves to hide any identifiable marks.” Braeden mentioned.

“He will probably want to call Stiles when he wakes up, but you can’t let him do that.”

“Why?” She asked in confusion. “My pack agreed to take him in for an undetermined amount of time as a favor. They didn’t ask any questions because they are going to expect the same thing from Scott when they need something in the future. Me, on the other hand, I have some questions.”

“Stiles needs to believe he’s dead.”

“Why?” She repeated. “For how long?”

“Scott thinks if Stiles knows Juice is alive then he will act a certain way and the club will figure it out.” Derek reasoned. “When Stiles is back in Beacon Hills, out of Charming for good, then we will tell him the truth.”

“Scott is an idiot and so are the rest of you for going along with this stupid ass plan.” Cora shook her head. “What happens when this guy wants to leave before you tell Stiles everything?”

“You cannot let him leave.” There was a hint of order in Derek’s voice that set her on edge.

“At least not until I get his new identity sorted out.” Braeden put in.

“Do not let him leave until I give you the okay.” Derek said.

“So now I’m holding this guy hostage?” She did not sign up for that. “What the fuck, Derek?”

“It’s not for very long. Just a couple weeks.”

“Weeks? Stiles is in love with this guy, right? That’s why Scott turned him?”

“Yeah.”

“Stiles believes he is dead. What makes you think this isn’t going to turn into some Romeo and Juliet situation? One fakes their own death and the other, not knowing it was fake, kills themselves – “

“Stiles is not going to kill himself.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He has two kids to go home to. He is not going to leave them.”

“I hope you are right. If you’re wrong, his dad is going to kill all of you.” She muttered before something clicked in her mind. “Does the sheriff know about this?”

“No.”

“All of this is going to blow up in your faces.” She determined. “Load him up in the backseat of my car. I would like to make it to San Diego before I stop for the night.”

* * *

 

Stiles sat with Jarry on the side of the table furthest from the door, that felt like a mistake but it was not up to him. He tried to physically distance himself from the sheriff but there was only so far he could go. Patterson was in another room, watching and listening to everything from a monitor. And Tully, well, he was smiling at him from the other side of the table. This entire meeting was most definitely a mistake.

“You have something to say, Mr. Tully?” Jarry’s lack of patience shining through in her tone.

“I do.” He drawled. “I’m glad you could make it, kid. I’ve been dying to see you again.”

“I’m not here to chat. You have information on some murders. Give it to the sheriff so I can go home.” He demanded harshly.

“I like that fire. I would have loved to see more of that from Juicy while I had him.” It took everything Stiles had not to flinch at the words. He was not going to give Tully the satisfaction of a reaction. “I am really going to miss his sweet as-“

“Either give me what I came here for or Mr. Stilinski is leaving and it will just you and me.” Jarry threatened.

“Well, we don’t want that.” Tully conceded, sending the woman a devilish smirk. “If you want me to be honest, it is you who is the guest of honor. He’s just a bonus.”

“Your attorney told DA Patterson that you had information on these three open homicides.” She spread the files across the table. “Start talking.”

“I didn’t bring you here to talk.” The inmate confessed.

“I don’t like games, Tully. Mr. Stilinski can attest to that.”

“Yes, he can, and that is the problem.” Tully looked back at him, leaning in closer as if they were sharing a secret. “I think you are going to enjoy what happens next.”

“What the hell is going on?” Jarry snarled.

“If I wasn’t already going to spend the rest of my life in here, I wouldn’t be doing this.” Tully pushed back his chair. “Someone else would do it for me, but I’m glad that it’s me.”

He thought that nothing on earth could shake him after what he had witnessed at Nate’s house the night before, and after dealing with werewolves for the last three years. He found that was not the case at all when Tully lunged over the table and grabbed Jarry around the neck. Stiles shot backward, falling out of his chair, his fight of flight instincts taking over. He fell to the floor in his haste to get out of the way, crab-walking backward until he hit the wall. He imagined this was what Tara had felt like watching Otto kill that nurse a few months back.

He was helpless to do anything but stare with wide eyes as Tully shoved something sharp into Jarry’s throat. He stabbed her repeatedly, blood spraying the walls, before dropping her unceremoniously to the floor next to Stiles. He acted then, placing a hand over her wounds, coating them red, to staunch the bleeding. It was a useless effort, made even more meaningless when a hand grasped his and pushed him away from the sheriff completely.

Tully was in front of him, a feral glint in his eyes as he crowded into Stiles space. He cringed and looked away when he felt the man’s breath against his face.

“His last gift to you, sweetheart.” He whispered huskily into Stiles ear before sloppily kissing his cheek.

The door flung open, guards rushing in, the moment Stiles registered the words. His eyes turned to Jarry, whose body was now lifeless, inches away from him, as the guards yanked Tully back, pulling him up, and taking him from the room. The next thing Stiles saw was Patterson crouching down beside him.

“Stiles, are you alright?” She questioned worriedly. “Can you hear me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be able to?” He asked as he struggled to his feet. “What was that? What took the guards so long to get in here?”

“The cameras malfunctioned while Tully was speaking to Jarry.” The cameras malfunctioned or were they turned off purposefully? His money was on the latter. “I sent the guards in immediately.”

“They sure took their sweet time getting in here!”

“It took them less than a minute to get in here and restrain him.” Patterson told him.

“No, it was longer than that.” It felt so much longer than a minute.

“You are in shock.”

“Shock?” He scoffed at the accusation. “The shit I have seen… shock isn’t something my body is capable of feeling anymore.”

“You would be surprised.” She said putting a hand on his shoulder. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“He came over the table. He had something in his hands.” He didn’t get a good look at it. “He went after Jarry. I didn’t – I couldn’t- I froze, I guess. That’s never happened before.”

“Have you ever been locked in a room with a dangerous prisoner who had a weapon, before?”

“No.” A geriatric who specialized in torture? Yes. A werewolf on a power-trip? Yes. A prisoner with what was probably a shiv? No, that was a new one for him.

“I’ll need to get an official statement from you and your clothes will be taken for evidence. We’ll give you something to wear.”

“My clothes?” He looked down to see blood on his shirt, from the splatter, and his jeans in a similar state having soaked up some from the pool of it on the floor. “Oh that’s gross.”

* * *

 

John looked out at the number of people in his backyard. Parents and children enjoying their time together before the kids started leaving for college. A few weeks ago Stiles was looking forward to this, spending the weekend with his friends, playing games, and eating barbecue. It was different now. Stiles wasn’t here and he doubted his son would find anything remotely enjoyable for long while after tonight.

“Everything looks great, John.” Melissa said approvingly as she joined him on the porch.

“Yeah.” He couldn’t help but find Abel in the mess of people. The kid had somehow goaded the pack into a giant game of tag. “Do you know who has Thomas?”

“Wendy took him upstairs to put him down for a nap.” She informed him. “Is everything okay?”

“No.” He answered honestly. “I need all of these people gone before Stiles gets home tonight.”

“Stiles is coming home?”

“We can’t let him feel crowded.” Stiles loved being around people, but after he lost someone he needed solitude. “He’ll need to feel safe and he won’t with all these people here.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m gonna let them continue on with the barbecue, because Abel is having fun and I can’t take that away from him.” Who knew when that boy would ever be happy again. “But this has to be shut down before Stiles gets home.”

“Okay.” She nodded in agreement. “What about the pack? They will want to stay if they think Stiles needs them.”

“The only people Stiles will need are the ones he can’t have anymore.”

* * *

 

Stiles sat quietly in the passenger seat of his jeep while Jax drove them down the road. Patterson had not felt comfortable letting him drive home in his state, and refused to let him leave without an escort. He called Chucky, hoping to get a mechanic and the tow truck. What he got was his older brother, being dropped off by the tow truck. Jax had taken his keys and gotten in the driver seat before Stiles had even processed that he was there.

“I didn’t mean for Chucky to bother you when I called for a ride.” For the first time in his life, he felt awkward with his brother. He felt awkward in his own damn jeep.

“I was at TM when he got the call. I told him I would take care of you.”

“Thanks.”

“You want to tell me what happened? You got blood all over your neck.” Jax pointed to the area of exposed skin that his shirt had not protected from the splatter. “Why were you even there?”

“Patterson wanted my help with Tully. He wanted me and Jarry there. He killed Jarry.” He gave his brother the condensed version of what had gone down. “He stabbed her in the neck.”

“Did he try to hurt you?”

“No. He only wanted Jarry.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’ve seen a lot of bad things. I did a lot of brutal shit when I was possessed.” Things he often saw when he closed his eyes. “I don’t know why today was different, seeing that. Why did it have me cowering in the corner, like a child, instead of helping?”

“Do you know how Juice died?” Stiles faltered at the question. “Do you?”

“Yes.” He answered after a beat of silence.

“Did you know it was Tully that did it?”

“I thought it might be.” He was the only suspect on Stiles list.

“That’s why this time was different.” Jax concluded. “The guy who killed your old man, stabbed him in the throat, was right there doing it to someone else. Maybe your mind had trouble dealing with the similarities.”

“Maybe.” That was a theory, one he never expected to come out of Jax’s mouth, but a sound theory nonetheless. “Jarry was on your payroll, is it going to cause issues for the club?”

“I doubt it.” Jax shrugged his shoulder. “There will always be more cops to take the place of a dead one, and they will all have buttons to push.”

“That’s the spirit.” It was one way to remain optimistic. “What is one dead cop when there is another one waiting in the wings to fill their position?”

“I can see how that might sound bad to you.” He didn’t like Jarry, but his dad was a sheriff for fuck sake, he didn’t need to hear Jax’s twisted world view on what their lives were worth.

“There will always be more cops and more criminals.” It was a fact of life. “Some of those people might even overlap.”

“They might.”

His brother didn’t say anything more as they drove. Stiles let his head lay against the cool window and watched the town pass by. A few days ago, he may have tried to break the silence with a joke or sarcastic comment, but he didn’t have that in him anymore. He let Jax take them all the way to Teller-Morrow parking lot without uttering another word.

“Don’t get out of the car yet.” Jax ordered as he turned off the vehicle, leaving the keys in the ignition. “There's a conversation we need to have.”

“There is.”

“I’m sorry for what I did.” Jax gripped the steering wheel tightly as he spoke. “For hurting you. For causing you pain.”

“I’m sorry too, for breaking your trust.” They were both so apologetic for the fallout of their actions, but not the actions themselves.

“It can never be like it was with us, can it?” Jax asked softly.

“I don’t know.” It seemed like an impossible idea right now, when the wounds were still fresh. “It would take a lot of time, but even then… I just don’t know.”

“I’m sorry that we won’t get the chance to try.” Jax’s voice quivered. “I wish we could. I wish I could change things. Everything would be different if I could. I would stay with my boys forever. I would give up this life, the club, and just be with my family.”

“I almost think you mean that.”

“I do.”

“Why are you saying this to me, Jax?” Why now? Why today?

“I killed Jury, he was Indian Hills charter president. I thought he told Lin’s guys the location of our guns.” Stiles knew some of this, learned it when he and Jax went to see Juice. It was someone named Barosky who sold them out, not Jury. “That’s not why I killed him.”

“Why did you?”

“He told me that my dad killed himself, ran his bike into that semi on purpose. I didn’t want to believe him. I was so angry. I shot him. I killed him.” Stiles didn’t have any sort of response to that, he waited patiently for Jax to continue. “The presidents of some of our other charters came down to voice their concerns about what I had done. Killing another president in cold blood…”

“I don’t think I understand where this is going.”

“Yes, you do.” Jax countered. “I told them I would get the club to vote the right way if they changed some of the clubs rules.”

“Vote the right way?” Stiles knew how the club worked, he knew the punishment for killing another member. “Mayhem. They voted mayhem.”

“Chibs is the new pres, or he will be after tonight.” Jax acted like he was simply stepping down and handing over his title. “He is supposed to be the one to hand down the mayhem.”

“Supposed to be?” Stiles asked a little breathlessly, feeling on the verge of a panic attack.

“I won’t put my death on my guys’ heads.” Stiles felt relief for the first time in days upon hearing that.

“You’re going to run?” He would much rather his brother be alive and out there somewhere than dead in Charming.

“I’m going to let the road take me, like it did my dad.”

To Jax, to the club, that might have sounded better. To Stiles, it just sounded like suicide. He did not want his brother to die at the hands of the club or by his own hand. The crimes, the betrayals, none of it mattered right now.

“I gave your dad all the paper work for the houses, cars, and life insurance stuff. It’s all signed over to you.” Jax told him, as if those things mean anything to Stiles. “Custody of the boys is yours. Wendy’s role in their lives is something you two are going to have to discuss.”

“Jax, stop.” His mind was reeling as he stared over at his brother, he could barely focus on what the older man was saying.

“After the funeral, I don’t want the boys back in Charming for any reason. I want them away from here and the club.” Jax continued as if Stiles hadn’t said a damn thing. “You’ve known Chibs and Tig a long time, you need to decide if you still want them in your life. You should keep in touch with Nero, he’s a good guy, and he loves the boys.”

“Stop, Jax.” He pleaded, feeling tears wet his cheek. “Please.”

“I burned my journals and JT’s manuscript. I didn’t want Abel or Thomas to find them one day. I didn’t want them to know what JT and I wanted for the club or hoped for. They do not need to know who I tried to be. They need to know who I was, who I am.” Jax went on. “I need you to tell them who I really am.”

“I don’t want to listen to this right now, Jax.” He wasn’t ready to listen to it. “Can we do this later? Please?”

“There is no later, Stiles.” That was exactly why he didn’t want to have this conversation right now, because once this conversation was over, that meant his brother would be gone. “You have to tell Abel and Thomas who I am. You have to tell them what a piece of shit I am. Tell them about the awful things I have done. You make sure they never try to live this life because of what I let it turn me into.”

“I can’t tell them that. I won’t.” He was not going to sit Abel or Thomas down when they were older and tell them that their father was evil. He could not do that.

“I let Juice be raped and then had him murdered in prison.” Stiles flinched at the bluntness of that statement. “You hate me for that. My sons will hate me when they see the pain written on your face when you tell them.”

“Stop.”

“The only way to keep them out of this life is to make them hate it and to make them hate me. Promise me, Stiles. Promise me that you will tell them who I really am.”

“I promise.” The words fell out of his mouth before he could catch them. “I will not let them see SAMCRO as their link to you.”

“Thank you.”

“You are a real bastard sometimes.” He choked out as he wiped away his tears.

“I know.” Jax undid his seatbelt and scooted to the middle of the bench seat. “I meant what I said. I wish we had the time to fix the damage between us. I want you to know that I understand why you were willing to go as far as you did to protect my sons.”

“I knew you would.”

“I forgive you.”

“I-I…Jax…” He wanted to say it back, but didn’t want to lie. He did not know if he could forgive Jax for killing someone he loved, just as Jax couldn’t forgive Gemma for killing Tara.

“I love you.” Jax made him look into his eyes as he said it.

“I love you too.”

“I will always be your big brother."

* * *

 

Groggy was not a good enough word for what he was felt when he came to. His head was pounding. His throat was killing him. His entire body felt like it had been run over by a tractor-trailer and then put through a meat grinder for good measure.

Opening his eyes turned out to be a chore. They fought to stay closed, still heavy with sleep, but he somehow worked up the strength to force them open. The first thing he found in his field of vision was shackles around his wrists, the skin around them was red, chafed, and burning. He jostled the chains, feeling them connected to another set of cuffs around his ankles.

“It’s just a precaution.” An unfamiliar female voice told him. “We weren’t sure how much control you would have when you woke up.”

“Who are you?” He looked toward the front seat, making out dark hair and a young woman’s face.

“Cora Hale.”

“Hale? You’re Derek’s sister?” He had a brief recollection of the name.

“Yep.” She confirmed. “Derek explained that you would be staying with my pack for a little bit, right?”

“Yeah, he did.” He was supposed to stay with her until Stiles went home. “How far are we from your place?”

“We’re still a couple hours out from San Diego, that’s where we’re going to stop for the night. We’ll cross the border in the morning and get on a plane sometime after that.” She explained.

“What? I thought you only lived a few hours away from Beacon Hills?” That was the impression he got from Derek at least. “Where exactly do you live?”

“Caracas.” She said. “It’s in Venezuela.”

“Venezuela is in South America.”

“Yep.”

“You are not taking me to South America!” He did not agree to that. “I am not going so far away from Beacon Hills that I need a plane ticket to get back.”

“Derek said you knew the plan.”

“I said I would stay with you, not leave the country.” He never said he would leave California. “I need to be close enough to get home if I need to.”

“Dude you are officially dead. You don’t have a home anymore.” That was a low blow.

“I appreciate your help, but you can just let me out here.” Wherever _here_ happened to be. “I’ll find my own way to Beacon Hills.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can, just pull the car over.” He insisted.

“I can’t do that.” She repeated.

“Why the hell not?”

“Can we talk about this once we get settled into the motel room for the night? This car is a rental and I don’t want you to wolf out and ruin the upholstery.”

“I am not going to wolf out.” He may have only been a wolf for a few weeks, but he had been learning how to control himself, his temper, since he was a kid. Some added supernatural element was not going to break him. “I’m fine. Now let me out of the chains and the car.”

“We will call Derek when we get to the motel and see what’s going on. That is the best I can do.” She tried to compromise with him.

“Can I use your phone to call Stiles?” He wanted that if he could have it.

“Yeah, that is not going to happen either.” She replied through gritted teeth.

“Why not? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, to the best of my knowledge.” That did absolutely nothing to reassure him. “But you can’t talk to him right now.”

“He thinks that I am dead.” Unless, by chance, someone told him the truth, which was highly doubtful. “He needs to know that I’m not.”

“Why didn’t you tell him before you played dead?”

“Scott and Derek told me not to.”

“You listened to them because…?”

“They had just handed me a way to save my life.” Keeping it from Stiles until after he was out of jail was part of the deal. “We didn’t know if it would work, if what the vet gave me would be enough to hold back the healing or kick start it. We didn’t want to give him false hope that I would live in case I didn’t.”

“I will talk to Derek about calling Stiles, okay?”

“Do I have a choice?” He was chained up in the back seat, at her mercy. He had to go along with what she said, whether he wanted to or not.

“No.”

“I will go with you to the motel, but I will not go to South America.” There was no way in hell he was putting that much distance between he and Stiles.

“We will see what Derek says.”

“I don’t care what Derek says.” He wasn’t going to be a prisoner or a hostage to someone he barely knew. “Can I ask you a question?”

“If you shut the fuck up afterward.” She said with irritation.

“Why are my wrists and ankles burning?” They might as well have flames coming off them considering how badly they hurt.

“That would be the wolfsbane.” She turned up the radio as she spoke. “No more talking until we get to the motel.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am.” She grumbled.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Douchebag.”

* * *

 

The garage was packed to the brim with Dyna and older model Harley parts, random computer components, and an array of tools. Stiles was amazed there was actually room to park anything in the tiny area. There was a method to the madness in which the room was arranged, Juice’s OCD at work. It made things a bit easier to get things packed away in a timely fashion.

He did come across a few random items spread around the room as he worked his way through it. There were several bottles of hand sanitizer stashed in different nooks and crannies, which wasn’t a surprise. The bag of weed and roll of cash falling out of an old computer tower was a stroke of luck. The small baggy of white powder hidden in an old work boot was immediately flushed down the toilet, though Stiles could only guess what it actually was. It was behind a stack of old manuals and books that Stiles was smacked back into reality.

There were a number of pictures tacked to a pin board that sat against the wall, rather than hanging on it. Each photo set at the same two locations, TM or the old clubhouse. One stood out above all the others. It was a young Juice, standing between his brothers, holding up a kutte with top rockers on it. It had to be the day he earned his full patch. He took the photo off the board and turned it over, to see if his assumptions were correct about the date and found something else entirely.

_THESE MEMBERS ARE YOUR FAMILY._

_THIS CHARTER IS YOUR HOME._

 

It was written in Jax’s scrawl across the back. The ink was faded with age, but the meaning behind it was clear. It was his brother telling Juice that he was loved, that he had somewhere to go, and that he would never be alone again.

A lot had changed since that picture had been taken, since those words were written. The happiness and hope on the faces in the photo hadn’t been seen in a long time. The majority of the men caught on camera were dead now. Only three were remaining and the number would dwindle to two before nightfall.

He tried not to think about it since retreating to Juice’s house. He couldn’t stop what would happen, Jax had told him as much. His brother explicitly said to go home and wait, that Chibs would be coming to him, would knock on his door to tell him his brother was dead when the deed was done.

He was doing his best to honor Jax’s wishes. He left TM watching Jax ride off and it had taken all he had not to go after him. Instead, he had gone back to the house to finish what he started that morning. He tried to lose himself in boxing up Juice's things, to stop from thinking about what his brother was doing. He had tried, and it had worked for a little while.

He wanted to do what Jax had said, but he was never good at waiting. He returned the photo to its rightful place and started out the garage door, fully prepared to hop in his jeep and head for the road he assumed his brother would be on. The glint of silver to his right stopped him. Juice’s bike sat prominently in the driveway, where it had been left by one of the guy’s from TM yesterday. The keys were sitting on Stiles keychain like they belonged there.

It called to him, like a sign. It only seemed right to meet with his brother for the last time on a motorcycle that had Sons of Anarchy decal painted on the side.

* * *

“I didn’t tell anyone where I was going. How did you know I would be here?” Jax asked as Stiles removed his helmet.

“The same way I knew where Gemma would be.” They all ran to their fathers when they needed to feel safe.

“Nice wheels.” Jax nodded toward the bike.

“Thanks. I like yours too.” He admired JT’s motorcycle before he looked toward the memorial on the side of the road. “How’s your dad?”

“Still dead.” Jax quipped.

“Funny how that works.” What was dead tended to stay that way.

“What are you doing here, Stiles?”

“I didn’t want you to be alone.”

Jax wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him into an embrace. Stiles held onto him as tightly as he could, thinking maybe if he held on tight enough then Jax could stay. It was wishful thinking though. Nothing Stiles did could save anyone.

“You being here now, it reminds me of when you were little. You would follow me everywhere. I don’t think I could take two steps away from you before you were reattaching yourself to my hip. You even followed me into the church once, sat on my lap during a vote. Clay was so fucking angry. Piney thought it was hilarious.” Jax laughed. “Do you remember that?”

“Yes.” He had grown out of it at some point, that overwhelming need to be in his brother’s presence every second he was in Charming.

“You can’t come with me this time, little brother.”

“I know.”

Jax kissed the top of his head before taking a step back. He gave Stiles a smile, lifted a hand to wipe away the stray tears that had fallen from Stiles eyes. Stiles kept his fingers clutched around his brother's kutte, a futile effort to keep him there.

“Don’t follow me now.”

He could only nod his head numbly as Jax’s disentangled his fingers from his leather and backed away. Stiles hands fell uselessly to his sides as he watched Jax mount John Teller’s bike.

“Save my boys, Stiles.” The echo of the last thing Tara had said to him coming from his brothers lips hit him like a punch to the gut.

“I promise.” His voice shook as he responded the same way he had the last time that duty was tasked to him.

The sound of tires on gravel perked Stiles ears but he didn’t take his eyes off his brother. He didn't blink when Jax pulled his gun and fired off a few rounds at the car behind Stiles. He watched Jax take off down the highway at full speed, a state trooper on his ass. He couldn’t bring himself to look away until his brother was completely out of sight.

There was a can of spray paint in the saddlebags of Juice’s bike, he had put it there before he left the house. There was an important reason Stiles pulled it out now. He removed the cap as he walked past the helmet and sunglasses that sat in the dirt. He lifted his arm and added another set of initials and date beneath the one already there.

_J.T. 11-13-93_

_J.T. 07-09-14_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: Jax's canon death date is 12-09-14, because that is when the episode aired. This fic is set during the summer so the month has been changed to reflect that.  
> [TUMBLR](http://www.stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/)  
> [Youtube](https://www.youtube.com/user/SandM1827/)  
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos, they are greatly appreciated.


	14. It's All Been Forgiven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd.  
> Chapter title is from Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks by The National  
> Gifets: [It's All Been Forgiven](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/114290208944/mama-gemma-au-its-all-been-forgiven-31), [Betrayal is Unforgivable](http://stilinski-ortiz.tumblr.com/post/114630304794/mama-gemma-au-betrayal-is-unforgivable-32-32)  
> I could have broken this up in to two chapters, but the second one would have been short, so I decided to put them together.  
> 

He had gotten used to walking into his kitchen in the early morning hours to find his son sitting at the table. He was usually on his third cup of coffee by the time John made his first and sat across from him. It had been three days since Stiles came home and this is where he ended up every morning.

The first morning, the one after Jax had been killed, John and Melissa had sat beside him at the table all night. He shook the entire time, eyes red and tear stained. He didn’t speak until the sun came up, and even then it was nonsensical mumbling.

The second morning Stiles had come back to himself a bit. He spoke enough to tell the pack that he appreciated the help, but their presence was not needed. They took that to mean they should all visit separately throughout the day so Stiles could not have a moment alone. Stiles caught on to that pretty quickly and hid away in his room with the boys until his friends took the hint.

Today was different. Stiles was dressed in his regular clothing, which was a nice change from the ratty sweats and hoody he had been wearing. Rather than a state of near catatonia he had found him in before, he was alert and making notes on a pad of paper.

“Son?” He tried, garnering no response. He sighed and covered Stiles hand with his, forcing him to stop writing. “What’s all this?”

“A list of things I need to do.” Stiles let the pen fall to the table as John sat with him. “I’m heading back to Charming in a little while. I need to be at Jax’s house by 9:00a.m. for a meeting with Lowen.”

“Why don’t you just meet her here?” He was having some trouble with the idea of his son returning to Charming after all that had happened.

“I need to start packing up Jax’s place anyway. I have to finish Juice’s house and see how far Nero has gotten with Gemma’s.” Stiles explained. “It just makes sense that I meet Lowen while I’m doing all that.”

“I can get Parrish to handle things at the station today.” The deputy had been doing that for the last few days anyhow. “I’ll go down with you.”

“I can do it myself.”

“You don’t have to.” No one should have to do all of it on their own. “I am your father. Let me help you.”

“Take care of the boys for me while I’m gone. I don’t really have an idea of when I’ll be back.”

“You will be home tonight.” He let the order sink into his tone.

“Dad- “

“Tonight, Stiles, or I will drag you back myself.” Stiles may legally be an adult, but he was still John’s son and he would listen to what he had to say. “You will sleep in your own bed. If you still have things to do in Charming tomorrow, then you can go back tomorrow. But, you will spend your nights at home so I can see, with my own eyes, that you are safe. Okay?”

“Okay. I’ll come home tonight.” Stiles conceded. “I just want to get it done before the funeral.”

“And what happens after the funeral?” Stiles shrugged his shoulders and looked away from him. ”I know about Berkeley. I found the paperwork. I need you to tell me what’s going on.”

“Berkeley isn’t a cheap place to live, even if I could get into family housing. “ He wasn’t wrong, but they could have figured something out. “I talked to the University of Oregon, explained my situation, and they said their offer was still open and I accepted.”

“You could go anywhere, Stiles. Stanford, Brown, Yale, Harvard, and MIT all accepted you.” He knew his son only applied to schools on the east coast to see if he could get in, and to gloat when he had. “I’m sure the University of Oregon is a great school, but there are better schools that wanted you. Why Oregon?”

“I want to get the boys out of California for a few years, but I don’t want to move them across the country. I would like to stay within driving distance of you.” He appreciated Stiles taking him into consideration, but that didn’t answer everything. “And we already have a house in Oregon. It’s in a nice neighborhood, down the street from a good elementary school for Abel.”

“Are you taking about Nate’s house?” Where Gemma and Unser were killed? “You cannot possibly be thinking of moving those boys into the house their grandmother died in.”

“They don’t know she was killed there.”

“You do.”

“I can live with it.” Stiles claimed with little emotion in his voice.

“Is this... is it your way of punishing yourself? Is living in that house some kind of penance? What Jax did to Gemma is on him, not you.” His son had no reason to feel guilty about it. “You don’t owe Gemma or Wayne anything.”

“I’m not punishing myself.” John knew that was a lie. “I decided on Oregon and Nate’s house after Tara died. I’m not going to let Gemma’s death change my plans.”

“The only reason you even have Nate’s house is because Gemma is dead.” Gemma was the one who owned the house, had since Nate had been placed in the retirement home. “How would you have moved in if she had lived?”

“If she ever wanted to see her grandsons again she would have handed over the keys.” Oh, blackmail, how very Charming. “If I had the boys I would always end up in Oregon. It’s away from SAMCRO and the pack.”

“The pack?”

“I cannot take the boys away because the club is dangerous, and keep them around the pack as if violence doesn’t follow them too.” Stiles dropped his gaze to the table. “Charming, Beacon Hills, neither of them are safe for those kids.”

“What happens when you’re done with school?” He always thought his son would come back after graduating from university. “This is your home. Your friends are here. Your family is here.”

“If things settle down in Beacon Hills, then I’ll come home. The way it is now puts Abel and Thomas in danger. Abel was already hurt because of pack issues, my issues, and I won’t let that happen again.” What Kate had done to Abel was no longer physically visible on the boy, but the emotional scars would probably affect Stiles more than they ever would Abel. “If I have to leave my home to ensure it doesn’t happen again, then I will.”

“I understand why you would leave everything you know behind.” Hell, he had done it when he was Stiles age. “As your father, I do not want you to sacrifice your entire life. You do not have to give up your friends to raise those boys. You will need an outlet, something for you.”

“I’m not giving up my friends, or you. It’s only my role in the pack and my place in Beacon Hills.” It didn’t seem like much, but they were monumental things whether Stiles realized it yet or not. “I have to give Abel and Thomas the chance at a safe and normal life. If I don’t then nothing Tara did, nothing I was willing to do to the club, to Jax...none of it would mean anything.”

“Leaving everything you have ever known, it’s not as easy as it might seem.” The idea of it being permanent was so different from just going away to school for a few years. “I’m not trying to talk you out of it. I just don’t want you to be surprised if it hurts worse than you think.”

“I don’t think it is possible for me to hurt any worse than I already do.” Stiles admission was enough to break John’s heart. “It can’t be that hard, people do it every day. You did it.”

“When I left Charming, I had nothing left for me there. Nathanial had died. Rose and Nate had moved away. I had just lost my father.” He had been completely alone. “I joined the military because I was lonely. I wanted the comradery it came with. And to serve my country, of course.”

“Of course.”

“It was still hard to leave. It had been my home for my entire life.” He didn’t venture far from his home town after leaving the service. “It was easier for me, because there was no one left for me there. It was harder, only because I thought of who might look for me there. It’s not the same as your situation.”

“You thought your brother would go looking for you in Charming?” John faltered at his son’s question. “I never… I forget that you have a brother and a mother out there. I forget how much you lost.”

“Don’t deflect, Stiles. Don’t turn this around on me.” He could see exactly what his son was doing. “You cannot focus on my pain so you don’t have to feel your own.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” The petulance in his voice said otherwise.

“The point I am trying make is, you may think it’s going to be easy to leave home and your friends, but it won’t be. Keeping in touch will not be the same as having them by your side.” He wouldn’t be able to make a five hour drives just to hang out with Scott. Text messages and phone calls would not be enough after a while. “I want you to be prepared for that.”

“I will be.” He didn’t sound too sure of himself. “I know leaving, going to Oregon, is the right decision for the boys.”

“Is it the right decision for you?” He had to think about himself in all of this as well.

“I don’t know.” Stiles said with a sigh. “I do know that I need to leave soon if I’m going to meet Lowen on time.”

“I would like to come with you.”

“I have to do this by myself. I told you that.”

“Do you think if you do it all on your own that it will keep you busy until you leave for school?” His son shot him a confused look. “You will have to sit down and deal with it eventually.”

“I’m dealing with it right now. Why do you think I’m meeting Lowen?”

“I am not talking about funerals or lawyers.” He was sure that Stiles knew that. “Your grief. You can’t put it off forever.”

“I’m trying to get all of this done now, so I can get to the grieving, the paralyzing _I don’t want to get out of bed_ part at least, out of the way before I move to Oregon and have to focus on classes and the boys.” Christ, his kid, ladies and gentlemen.

“You cannot,” Fucking hell, he forced himself not to slap a palm to his forehead at his sons stupidity. “You cannot pencil in grieving, Stiles.”

“I can try.”

“Son…”

“I know, dad, okay? I just need to get through this crap before I can…before I can believe that they are gone.”

* * *

 

He had spent a lot of time locked up in the last few weeks. First at Wendy’s apartment, Derek’s loft, and then the county jail. Now, he was stuck in a motel room and chained to a bed. He was beyond done with it all.

He was grateful that Cora had agreed to spend a few more days in California, instead of heading down to South America. However, he had been formulating a plan for the day she had enough and tried to take him over the border. She was getting antsy as well. The need to get up and move was clear in the way she left the room to go on runs. He tried to get her to take him along, but she did not trust him enough for that.

She didn’t trust him enough for anything. She kept him shackled, unless he was in the shower, and then she blocked the door so he couldn’t make an escape attempt. She would go out during the day to get food and bring it back. She usually took him through some minor control exercises after lunch, which had not become an issue as of yet. He tried to do push-ups and other things to keep busy but the way he was restrained made it difficult.

The only thing he could really do was sit on the bed and watch bad daytime television. She even kept his TV watching on a schedule. It was irritating to say the least, because the program he actually wanted to watch he hadn’t been allowed to.

“Can I use your phone?” He asked as she came into the motel room with their breakfast.

“No.” She responded while thrusting a bag of food at him. “I told you that the last thirty times you asked.”

“I won’t call, text, or email anyone.” He promised. “Let me surf the net or play a game on one of your apps. I’m going stir crazy.”

“No.”

“Do you have a book I can read?” He would settle for a used copy of _Where’s Waldo_ from a pediatrician’s office where all the Waldo’s were circled.

“No.”

“Then let me use your phone, please.” Even in prison, he had books to read and the ability to use the goddamn phone occasionally. “You can look over my shoulder the whole time, if it makes you feel better.”

“Watch TV.”

“The only thing you let me watch are bad telenovelas.” He had no idea why she was so fascinated by them. “I don’t understand the storylines.”

“You don’t understand what’s going on?” She said incredulously. “They are fucking soap operas. Secret twins, baby swaps, cheating spouses, and murder. That is literally all that happens.”

“Which is why they are so fucking boring.” Crap TV got old very quickly. “Let me use your phone.”

“Will you shut up if I do?”

“Sure.”

“Take it.” She grumbled and shoved the device at him. “No calls, texts, emails, or IMs.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Stop calling me that.” He only did it because it annoyed her.

“Does _mistress_ sound better?” He quipped.

“It might.” She retorted solely for the purpose of throwing him off, he was sure of it.

He settled back against the headboard of the bed while opening the browser on the galaxy. She wasn’t watching him, it would be easy to shoot off an email or text, but instead he typed in the URL of a local news station in Charming. The way Cora had been quick to turn off the TV whenever the news was supposed to come on made him suspicious.

He scrolled past a headline about Jarry being killed. As long as it was done he was happy, he didn’t need the details. August Marks and Barosky’s names both stood out, but he didn’t care enough to read about them. Half-way down the page he froze when an article caught his eye. His hand shook as he clicked the link that took him to a video posted three days before.

_“Jackson Teller, President of motorcycle club the Sons of Anarchy, took California State Troopers on a high speed pursuit down Highway 580 last night that ended in the biker’s death. Witnesses reported that Teller intentionally drove his motorcycle head-on into a semi. He was pronounced dead at the scene.”_

“Jesus.” He closed the video and dropped the phone on the bed, in shock at what he had just heard. “Fuck, Jax.”

“You weren’t supposed to find out that way.” He glanced up at her, seeing what probably passed for a sympathetic look on her face.

“What is it with you people?” He growled and climbed to his feet. “What gives you the right to keep life and death from someone? You refuse to tell Stiles that I am alive, and you don’t tell me that Jax is dead.”

“If you knew about Jax then you would have wanted to go to Stiles.”

“You are damn right about that.” It was where he was going right the fuck now. “Let me out of these chains so I can go.”

“No.”

“He needs me.” She had to know that.

“Scott said you had to stay here.”

“I don’t give a fuck what Scott wants.” He did not answer to Scott McCall.

“He’s your alpha and he wants you to stay here.”

“He is not my alpha.”

“He bit you."

“That doesn’t make him my alpha.” He just got out from under the thumb of people who had control of him, Tully and Jax. He was not about to give that power to someone else. “I don’t need an alpha.”

“Do you even know what it means to have an alpha or to be a wolf without one?”

“It makes me an omega.” Beta, Omega, none of it made a real difference to him. “Scott will still get a power boost from making another wolf.”

“That is not why he bit you.” Well, duh, he knew that.

“He bit me to keep Stiles close. He saw Stiles being pulled deeper into club business and got scared.” He was never under the assumption that Scott bit him because he liked him or because he would be an asset to his pack. “He thought this was the time Stiles wouldn’t come home. Maybe it was the trip that Stiles finally chose SAMCRO, chose Jax and Charming, over Scott and Beacon Hills. He bit me, wanted me to join his pack, because he believed Stiles would choose me.”

“I don’t think Scott has enough brains to be that manipulative.”

“You would be amazed by how far someone is willing to go to keep their family close.” His mind immediately went to what Gemma had done to Tara to keep her grandchildren with her. “It doesn’t matter why Scott bit me. He is not my alpha. He doesn’t make my decisions and neither do you. I am leaving. I am going to Beacon Hills, to Stiles. It would be better if you just let me go. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re chained up, I’m not.” She reminded him. “You can’t hurt me.”

“There is enough slack on this chain for me to wrap it around your neck. I will restrict your breathing until you pass out, then I’ll yell for help. A housekeeper or another guest will hear me and call the police. I’ll tell them you were holding me against my will.” He wasn’t stupid. He was not going to issue a challenge without having a plan to back it up. “Then, I will conveniently slip away while the cops are questioning you.”

“And if someone recognizes you?” She didn’t seem the least bit impressed by his threats.

“I will take that risk. Stiles just lost his big brother and thinks he lost me too. I need to be with him. I can take away some of his pain just by showing him that I am alive.” If he could take the smallest bit of pain away from Stiles, then he had to. “I promised him that everything would be okay. I told him I would take care of him, that we would take care of each other. I won’t break my promise.”

“He has an entire pack to take care of him.”

“It’s not the same thing!” He argued. “None of them knew Jax. They didn’t love him the way Stiles and I did. Stiles will play the _I’m fine_ game with his friends because he does not want them to take care of him. He will let me take care of him, because I will let him take care of me.”

“Hold on, Jax, Stiles brother, is the guy who ordered your death, right? You are sad that the guy who put a hit out on you is dead?” Is that seriously what she took away from that?

“Jax is family. You don’t just stop caring for someone because they hurt you.” Life would be much easier if you could. “He hurt Stiles and Stiles hurt him, but they didn’t stop loving each other. That is why Stiles needs me. He just lost his big brother, do you have any idea what that is like?”

“Yeah, I do.” She gritted out as she pulled the car keys from her pocket. “I will take you, but you are dealing with Scott."

“Thank you.”

* * *

 

Handling everyone’s affairs seemed like more of a chore than Stiles was expecting. All of his brothers things were put together neatly in the bundle of paperwork Jax had left with his dad, but it still wasn’t all he needed. It didn’t help that things from Tara’s death had not been completely settled yet either, which meant it fell to him now. Juice and Gemma’s things were just the mess piled on top.

“Tara and Gemma’s life insurance will be divided into a trust for the boys, which they will be able to access at the age of twenty-one.” Lowen spoke as she wrote the information down on a legal pad. “Is that correct?”

“Yeah.”

He was taking a chance using Lowen. She had tucked tail and ran when Jax had found out she was helping Tara, but he couldn’t really blame her for that. She had no reason to run this time and Stiles wanted to work with someone he knew and had worked with before. It helped that she was willing to cut her fee in half because she felt guilty for running out on Tara.

“I do have concerns about Jax’s life insurance.” She admitted.

“The semi-driver and the state troopers can testify that Jackson purposefully crashed.” Insurance companies didn’t write checks for suicides. “They aren’t going to pay out on him.”

“You are entitled to Clay Morrow’s life insurances, as Gemma’s last living relative that is adult age.”

“Clay died months ago.” Not long before Tara’s death if Stiles remembered correctly. “Gemma should have dealt with that already.”

“She did not file any of the necessary paperwork. She and Clay never divorced or legally separated, and she was listed as his beneficiary.” So, he got stuck dealing with Clays post-mortem crap.

“Is there going to be an issue with Gemma’s policy? No body was found.” No body, no crime.

“A statement from Jax, made before his death, and a pool of blood matching Gemma’s DNA found at the scene, were enough for Patterson and the coroner to feel comfortable declaring Gemma deceased.” That made Stiles wonder, once again, what exactly Jax had told the district attorney. “The insurance company might kick up a fuss, but I’ll take care of it.”

“Okay.”

“Now, let’s talk about your newly acquired businesses.” She sifted through the file folders piled on the table until she found the right ones. “There is full ownership of Teller-Morrow, partial ownership of Red Woody and Clear Passages – “

“Not Clear Passages. Juan Carlos signed over his ownership of it before he went to jail.” He informed her. “I want to give my portion of Red Woody to Lyla Winston.”

“You want to give it away?” She eyed him skeptically.

“Yeah.” He said just as the front door opened. “The hell?”

“Are you expecting someone?”

“No.” He should not have been surprised when club members seemed to filter into the house though.

“Hey kid,” Chibs greeted. “Didn’t know you’d be here.”

“I’m in the middle of something with the lawyer.” As if that wasn’t obvious.

“Don’t mind us we’re just here to pack things up.” Tig told him as he pointed toward the back door. “Quinn, TO, Montez, you three start in the garage. Rat and Happy, Abel’s room.”

The Sons took off toward the rooms they were directed to until only their Pres and VP remained. Stiles waited for them leave, to follow one of the other men or to begin packing in another room of the house. Instead, they joined him and Lowen, bracketing him in the free chairs at table.

“I thought you were packing?” This looked very much like sitting around, not packing.

“We’re here to help.”

“Right.” He gave Lowen a look of _what can you do_ and gestured for her to get on with what they were talking about.

“So, about Red Woody,” Lowen continued their conversation. “You want to _give_ your part of it to Lyla Winston?”

“Yes.” He did not want anything to do with it. “She didn’t get much from Opie’s life insurance. She’s a single mom raising three kids. She could use the extra income. She runs it more or less on her own. She should have a bigger cut.”

“Can I make a suggestion? Hand over the majority of your share to Mrs. Winston, but keep a small portion for yourself. Be a silent partner.” He sent the attorney a questioning look, not fully understanding the proposal. “You are a college student and now a single parent with two children. Abel has a heart condition, the doctor bills are going to be expensive. The extra income from Red Woody may come in handy.”

“I’m worried about how being part owner of a porn studio is going to look to my future employers.” It was bound to show up on a background check.

“It could not affect you any worse than your connection to a motorcycle club.” She pointed out.

“That’s true. Work out some percentages and I’ll talk to Lyla.” He was not going to do it without her approval.

“What are your plans for Teller-Morrow?” She asked, moving on from the porn.

“I’m keeping it.” He could not bring himself to sell it or hand over ownership. “Chucky’s already agreed to stay on and run the place. He’s been doing it for a while now anyway.”

“That brings us to the houses.” She shuffled around the papers until finding the deeds to the houses. “You told me on the phone that you wanted to rent out Ortiz’s place?”

“It’s a duplex and there’s a couple renting the other side already.” He didn’t want to evict them simply so he could sell the house. “Lowell, a mechanic at TM, mentioned that a requirement of his custody agreement is that he needed a two bedroom if he wanted longer visitation with his boy. He only has a studio apartment now. I was going to offer the place to him, so he could see his son.”

“I’ll draw up a rental agreement.” She made a note of it on her legal pad. “That leaves this place, Mr. Knowles house, Gemma’s, and Nathanial Madock’s house.”

“Gem’s, this place, and Tara’s dad’s house can all go up for sale. Unless one of the guys wants to rent one of them out.” He looked to Chibs and Tig to see what they thought.

“I’ll ask around and get back to you when I know.” Tig offered.

“Okay.” He nodded and turned back to Lowen. “I’m keeping Nate’s house.”

“Any reason why?” Lowen questioned. “Given what I happened there, I mean.”

“I plan to move up there with the boys.” He did his best to ignore the major side-eye he was receiving from every person in the room.

“That’s morbid.” Chibs commented but said nothing further.

“Speaking of the boys,” Stiles deviated the conversation. “Did you get the custody papers?”

“Jax’s lawyer had it all taken care of. You are the legal guardian to Abel and Thomas.” She reassured him. “There may be an in-home visit from a social worker, but unless Wendy decides to try for custody I think everything will be fine.”

“Wendy might have tried that with Jax or Tara a few years ago, but she’s not dumb enough to try that on me.” She had given up her parental rights to Abel, and she had none to Thomas, so she would not get very far if she did try. “Everything is in order then?”

“I am hitting a brick wall in one area.” She mentioned. “I did not have any luck during my many phone calls with the county jail officials.”

“They still won’t hand over Juice’s remains?” He shook his head in disgust at the prison system. “I have a legal right to his body, to bury him.”

“They’re keeping Juice’s body from you?” Chibs looked at him in confusion.

“They can do that?” Tig asked the lawyer.

“I have a meeting with the warden this afternoon. I will be handing him a court order that demands they produce the body.” Lowen told him.

“What If they don’t?” Every time he had spoken to the officials, they had maintained that Juice’s body had gone missing.

“We’ll sue.”

“We can do that?”

“We can try.” Try and fail. “The way they’ve been acting on the phone that may be the only way to get through to them.”

“How does a body even go missing from a prison morgue?” There were guards everywhere, so it’s not like anyone could have stolen it. “He didn’t just get up and walk away.”

“I’m not sure. I do have a contact at county who gave me this.” She slid a folder toward him. “It’s a copy of the preliminary autopsy report. They didn’t complete a full one and I doubt they would have.”

“It was obvious how he died. He was stabbed in the neck.” The gaping wound on the side of his throat was a good hint. Why waste state money on a autopsy when you didn’t have to?

“Yes, cause of death was easily determined. This, however, shows other injuries. They had not cut him open, but they did examine areas of his body.” She looked at him as if she was about to knock his world off its axis. “There was a significant amount of trauma, bruising, and tearing caused shortly before his death. The amount of damage and fluids-”

“Stop it!” Chibs barked. “He doesn’t need to hear this.”

He looked down at the folder. It sat in front of him like a bad omen. A sick part of him wanted to look, to read the report, to know every available detail about the brutality Juice had face. Another part of him wanted to burn it, like it had never been there. If he didn’t know, if it wasn’t sitting there like a taunt, then it could be as if it never happened.

The part of him glutton for punishment won out, like it always did. He let out a shuddering breath as his fingers trailed the edge of the file. He could feel the sets of eyes on him as he began to open the folder, only for a hand to slam down on top of it, forcing it to remain closed.

“No.” Chibs yanked it away from him. “No.”

“Chibs – “

“He’s gone, love.” The older man said gently. “Let it rest. Let him rest.”

“Okay.” He didn’t know how he could possibly put Juice to rest without being able to bury him, but he would let Chibs believe he could.

“If that is all for now,” Lowen gathered her papers from the table, stuffing them back into her briefcase. “I have to get to my meeting.”

“Alright.” Stiles stood to see her off. “Thank you for your help.”

“If there is anything else just give me a call.” She shook his hand in goodbye. “I’m sorry for your losses.”

He had no response to that, stuck on the ‘es’ at the end of loss. It took the sound of the door closing to pull him from the stupor it had placed him in. He shook his head to clear away the thoughts in his head, turning to focus on the men in the room.

“Where do you want to start? We got extra boxes in the truck.” Tig jerked his thumb toward the door. “I helped Nero finish off Gem’s place yesterday, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“I can take care of this myself. I don’t need any help.” He wanted to do it himself.

“Too bad. You’re going to need all the help you can get if you want to get it done before Jax’s service.” Chibs told him. “Which is tomorrow afternoon, by the way.”

“Thanks for letting me know.” Nothing like having short notice to your own brother’s funeral. That is what he got for letting others take care of it.

“I tried calling you about it, but your phone kept giving me a busy signal or sending me to voicemail.”

“Was it yesterday morning?” The Scot nodded. “I was being yelled at in Yiddish all morning.”

“Yiddish?”

“I called Juice’s sister to tell her he was gone. She asked who I was and what my connection was to him.” She had not liked his answer. “I told her that Juice and I were together. She proceeded to tell me that her dipshit little brother was no cocksucker, in some very colorful language. When I tried to convince her that I was telling the truth, she started screaming in Yiddish. It wasn’t until my phone went dead mid sentence that I realized I didn’t even get the chance to tell her that Juice was dead.”

“Marisol did this?”

“No, it was Marianna.” He should have hung up the phone the moment he figured out it was her.

“Why the fuck did you call Marianna?”

“I called Marisol. Marianna answered the phone.” Juice had cautioned them once that if they ever called one of his siblings, to make damn sure it was anyone but Marianna. “I’ve never talked to either of them, so I didn’t recognize her voice. An hour had passed before she actually told me her name.”

“You let her yell at you for over an hour?” He was trying to tell her that her brother was dead, he couldn’t just hang up the phone.

“I thought they should know he was gone. I didn’t know she would get so stuck on the fact that he was into guys.” By the time his phone had gone dead he had realized how lucky he was to have such an accepting family.

“You poor son of a bitch.” Tig snickered.

“There is someone else who needs to know about shit that has happened recently.”

“About Juice?”

“Jax.” He was sure the club had taken care of most of the notifications, but he knew there was one person they would forget. “Can you get me a number for Trinity Ashby?”

“They only met once, why would she care?” Chibs asked, answering the question about whether Jax told anyone in the club about who Trinity was.

“Jax leaves an impression.” He joked halfheartedly. “Can you get me the number or not?”

“I can get you the number.” The older man assured him. “If you drop the argument about us helping you pack up the house.”

“I can do it myself.” He did not need anyone’s help.

“Tig and Nero finished up Gemma’s house yesterday. I finished up at Juicy’s last night.” Stiles eye twitched in irritation, because that was his job. At the same time, Chibs had been Juice’s best friend for a long time, longer than Stiles had been with him. Maybe he had more of a right than he did. “This is all that’s left. The sooner it’s done, the sooner you can get back to the boys. I know you don’t want to leave them for long. Just let us help.”

“Okay. I appreciate it.” He did, mostly.

“Liar.” Chibs was an asshole, so he called him on it. “You were never going to get it all done before the service without help. You let Nero take care of Gem’s place, so I didn’t think it would bother you too much if I took care of Juice’s.”

“It’s different. I don’t give a shit about Gemma.”

“Do I need to call you on that lie too?” Stiles flipped him off, refusing to admit anything.

“What are you going to do with all this stuff?” Tig asked.

“I’ll take some of it up to Nate’s with me. Having familiar things around will help the boys feel more comfortable.” Most of the furniture from his grandfather’s house had been donated to the church, so he would need to take a portion from Jax and Gemma’s with him. “The rest will go into storage. Is there anything you guys want to keep?”

“There is something I went looking for but didn’t find at Juicy’s house.” Chibs admitted. “A picture that was tacked to a board he used to keep in the living room. It was a club photo with some writing on the back. Do you know where it is?”

“Yes.” It was sitting on his desk at home, where it had been since he left it there a few days ago.

“Can I have it?”

“No.” He said it a bit more forcefully then intended if the look he got in return meant anything. “I’m sure there’s a copy of it around here somewhere. If you can find it you can have it.”

“There’s a reason I want that one.”

“The same reason I’m keeping it.” What was written on the back meant more than the photo itself.

“Stiles – “

“No, Chibs.” He snapped. “I need it. I am keeping it. End of fucking discussion.”

“Why do you want it?”

“I want it so I can have a physical reminder that my brother actually gave a damn at some point.” He said harshly. “You want it to remind yourself of how the club used to be. It was about brotherhood not bullshit.”

“Brotherhood not bullshit,” Tig snorted. “We should get that on a t-shirt. It sure beats brains before bullets.”

“If any of you actually believed in brains before bullets, more of you would still be alive.”

* * *

 

It was the middle of the day but Abel was still in his pajamas, sitting on the floor of Stiles room playing with his toys. John leaned against the doorway and was suddenly ten years in the past. It was the same room, the same building blocks, but a different little boy trying to ignore the pain.

Perhaps it was something he had picked up from Jax, or maybe from watching Stiles. His son had kept himself bottled tight lately, nearly emotionless in the presence of his nephews. He didn’t want them to see how destroyed he was so, so he hid it all away, just as Abel was doing now.

“He won’t eat.” Wendy said as she came to stand by his side. “He ate the toast Stiles gave him this morning, but he won’t eat the lunch I made him.”

“I’ll make him a grilled cheese. If he doesn’t eat that then I’ll have Stiles make him something when he gets home.” Abel would eat just because Stiles told him to. “He might just snap out of this temporarily and come looking for food.”

“Is that normal?”

“There is nothing normal about a child losing his parents.” Children were supposed to bury their parents, but not until they were grown and the parents were elderly. “But, sometimes you forget. You get so ingrained in what you are doing that what happened feels like a dream, a nightmare. Stiles would do this after Claudia. He would get lost in a task. When he came out of it, he would call out for his mom. Then he would remember she was gone.”

“That sounds… fuck, it sounds terrible.” It was heartbreaking to watch his son realize his mother was dead over and over again. “Did he grow out of it?”

“It tapered off over time.” It was part of the grieving process, getting used to the person you loved being gone.

“You think Abel is going through the same thing?”

“It’s hard to say. Kids react different to things.” Abel’s age and the things he had witnessed in his young life would be a determining factor in how he handled his recent losses. “Abel will have people to help him through it. That’s what I need to talk to you about.”

He motioned for her to follow him down the hall. He did not want to have this conversation where Abel could listen. They ended up in the living room, a more relaxed setting then he needed but he wasn’t going to comment on that now.

“What are your plans, Wendy?” He sat down on the recliner.

“Plans?”

“Jax is gone. You have been taking care of the boys since Tara died, but Stiles has them now.” She had snaked her way back into their lives when Jax was the most vulnerable. “What are you going to do now?”

“I want to be in my son’s life.”

“Do you want to know what I think?”

“Yes.”

“I think Stiles is eighteen years old, the guardian of two young boys, and is going to be a freshman in college soon.” It was overwhelming just to think about. “I think he is going to need help. I would drop everything and go with him if I could. But, he would sooner not leave for school at all if I tried that and I don’t want him to miss out on his education.”

“I can help.”

“You’re willing to uproot your life?” She couldn’t do this halfway. “He’s going to Oregon, not Berkeley. Are you willing to move to Oregon?”

“Yes.”

“There are stipulations.” He warned. “You have to stay clean, Wendy. That is non-negotiable.”

“I know. I’ll stay clean. I can. I will.” She insisted. “I will go to meetings, get a sponsor, all of it. I won’t mess up again.”

“I know you’re only human and people make mistakes.” It was part of life. “If you relapse again, we won’t just toss you out on the street. We will get you help. The thing you need to remember is, that Stiles is not as forgiving as Jax.”

“What part of Jax was forgiving?”

“The part where he allowed you back in Abel’s life.” Though, to be fair, Tara had let her back in first. “If you relapse, you will have to jump through every recovery hoop to prove to him you can be stable.”

* * *

Stiles walked through St. Thomas with his nephews medical records in hand. He also had a list of specialists so Abel could have the best care while they were in Oregon, if complications with his heart should arise. He was prepared to leave and head for home when a vibration in his pocket stopped him. He removed his phone, seeing a text from Chibs containing the number he had asked for earlier.

He hesitated for only a moment before he dialed. He could wait, should have waited, until he was at home but there was no time like a present to deliver bad news. He moved into the chapel for a more private setting, thankful to find it empty.

_“Ashby Provisions.”_

“Is this Trinity Ashby?”

 _“Depends on who’s asking.”_ That was a yes.

“It’s about Jax Teller.”

_“I’m not on a private line.”_

“You don’t need to be for this.” It wasn’t as if they were going to trade information on illegal activities.

_“What is this? Who are you?”_

“My name is Stiles.” He had no idea if that meant anything to her or not. “Jax’s brother.”

_“You’re a Son.”_

“No. No, I’m not that kind of brother.” He supposed that answered his question though. “I’m his half-brother, through Gemma.”

_“Why are you calling me?”_

“I know you’re his half-sister, and that’s privileged information.” His knowledge of that was proof of how close he and Jax were.

 _“So, you know some family history, that doesn’t explain why you’re phoning me.”_ This was beginning to remind him of how his conversation with Juice’s sister had started, which didn’t bode well.

“Jax is dead.” He probably could have been less blunt when he said it.

_“How did it happen?”_

“Motorcycle accident.” It was better if she thought that. She didn’t need the idea of Jax committing suicide in her head. “I’m sorry.”

_“Aye. Me too.”_

“I don’t know if you two talked or how close you were,” Jax had only mentioned her once or twice to him. “I was going through some photographs of Jax and Thomas, of JT, and there are a lot of doubles. I could send you some copies, if you want.”

 _“That would be nice.”_ She didn’t sound very sure. _“How is Abel?”_

“As good as he can be.” Which wasn’t saying much considering all he had lost in the recent weeks. “He and his little brother will be living with me now.”

_“Not with their Ma or Gemma?”_

“Their mother was killed not long ago, and Gemma a day before Jax.”

_“Christ.”_

“You can keep this number if you want to. I can give you updates on the kids.” He offered.

_“I’ll do that.”_

* * *

 

It was dark when they arrived at the Stilinski residence. Cora had been nice enough to let him drive the last leg of the trip, so they didn’t have to make any unnecessary stops. She refused to pick up any cigarettes for him though, which was probably a good thing, because he was have been chain-smoking the whole drive up.

“How can I...“ John trailed of as he opened the door. “Juan Carlos and Ms. Hale.”

“Sheriff.” They pair greeted simultaneously. Juice was sure he felt Cora tense with him as the older man addressed them.

“I should be more surprised by your sudden resurrection.” He didn’t seem the least bit shocked, more unimpressed and thoroughly done with supernatural bullshit than anything. “I’m guessing this is the other thing that pack was hiding. And what Braeden and Lydia meant when they said Stiles would be the one feeling betrayed.”

“Yeah, I’m what they were talking about.” He flashed his eyes blue at John, quickly catching him up on some events without delving into a long explanation. “I heard about what happened to Jax this morning and came straight here.”

“Why didn’t you show up after you left prison?” That was a great question.

“Scott and Derek made me hold him hostage.” Cora answered before he could. “He was unconscious when Derek chained him up and put him in my car. I was supposed to take him to my pack, but he wanted to stay closer to Stiles, and I agreed with him.”

“Is that true?” John directed to him.

“More or less.” He was going to end up giving both Stilinski’s the full story, but that was for later. “Can I come in? I want to see Stiles.”

“He’s not home yet.” The older man said as he opened the door to allow them inside. “It’s just me, Wendy, and the boys.”

“Wendy’s here?” That could be slightly problematic.

“I will deal with her.” John promised as he led them both to the living room.

“Do you know when Stiles will be home?”

“Soon.” That was specific. “I’m sure if he knew you were coming back he would have been here already. But he doesn’t know, because you made him believe you were dead.”

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say expect that he was sorry.

“How did you get dragged into this, Cora?” John asked as he sat down in his Lay-Z-Boy and Cora and Juice took places on the couch.

“Derek called me, Scott called my alpha.” She had been double-teamed. “I owed Stiles.”

“For what?” Stiles had never mentioned doing anything for Cora.

“He saved my life once.” She shrugged her shoulders as if it were no big deal.

“Okay, Thomas is down.” Wendy’s voice sounded as she came down the stairs. She spotted him on the sofa rather quickly. “Uh…?”

“I think we are all in agreement that Stiles has been through more than enough lately. If there is one thing that can make him happy, then he should have it. Don’t you think so, Wendy?” John asked the woman.

“Yeah, of course.”

“So I can count on your not saying a word to the club and Nero, to anyone, about Juice being alive?” The blonde nodded her head slowly. “Oh good. I did not want to resort to threats about how easily you could disappear from Abel’s life if my son were to suffer due to someone’s inability to keep their mouth shut.”

If anyone could look threatening while kicked back in a recliner, wearing old sweats and an over-sized tee, then it would be John Stilinski. Wendy looked frightened, taken aback by what was said. Obviously she underestimated how far John would go for his son.

“I won’t say anything.” She vowed. “I promise.”

“Good. And you, Juan Carlos,” He really hated when John said his named that way. “If someone recognizes you, then it is game over. It does not matter that you are legally dead. You need to keep an extremely low profile until we figure out how you can get on with your life without risking jail time.”

“Okay.” Being on lockdown in Beacon Hills would be different from Charming lockdown. No one was looking for him, given that he was dead and all. “Braeden is taking care of a new identity for me. I wasn’t supposed to come here until it was done, but after I learned about Jax I had to make sure Stiles was okay.”

“He’s not okay. And a new identity doesn’t make you invincible.” John reminded him. “You have to stay out of Charming and away from the Sons of Anarchy.”

“I know.” He knew he could never go back to home, back to Charming.

“Not even for the funeral. I know you will try to talk your way into the car in the morning, claiming you will stay in there the whole time, but it will not work.” Juice was properly cowed by the accusation, because, yeah, that is something he would do. “You want to support Stiles and the club, but going to Charming is too big of a risk. I doubt you went through what you did just to go back to jail. Tell me you understand, Juan Carlos.”

“I understand.” He was not going to start a pointless argument that he wasn’t going to win. “You aren’t going to toss me in a cell or handcuff me in the basement to make sure I stay put, are you?”

“What? No.” The sheriff seemed utterly perplexed at the question. “Should I?”

“No. I’ll be good. I’ll stay put.”

“No one in this house is going to trap you or force you to stay if you don’t want to be here.” John said considerately. “Do you even want to be here?”

“Yes.” Of course he did. “I want to be here. I want Stiles. I chose him.”

“Do me a favor, tell him you chose to live, not that you chose him. It’ll mean more.” He was probably right about that. “I know you’ve been through hell. You will have to deal with it. You may be dealing with it the rest of your life. Tonight, I need you to be there for Stiles. I know it’s not fair of me to ask, but I need someone who understands him, how he is when he loses someone. He is only going to let me do so much for him.”

“I’ll take care of him.”

“Is Uncle back yet?” Abel’s voice grabbed their attention as he bounded down the steps.

“Abel, I put you to bed an hour ago.” Wendy grumbled.

“I want to wait for uncle.” He replied petulantly. “Is he coming back tonight?”

“He should be back soon. You can stay up a little while longer, but it’s straight to bed when Stiles gets home.” John reasoned with the boy.

“Okay.”

“Hey, buddy.” Juice gave Jax’s son a soft smile.

“You died, like my mommy and daddy.” The little boy sent him a wary glance. “Grandpa said so. Uncle was sad.”

“I was hurt really bad. They thought I died, but I got better.” He never really thought about how he would explain his return to the kids.

“Is my daddy going to get better?” If there was ever a question that could gut you like a knife in your stomach, it was the one Abel just asked.

“No.” He wished he could give the boy a different answer. “No. I’m sorry.”

Abel shuffled on his feet, looking toward the ground. Juice could see the pain on his face, the tears waiting to fall. He held them back, something a boy so young should not have the ability to do. He watched Abel take a deep breath and his face clear of all emotion. A grieving son replaced by a simple five-year-old child.

“Who are you?” Abel leaned over the arm of the couch to cast a curious glance at Cora.

“That’s Cora. She’s Derek’s sister, and a friend of your uncle. Cora this is my grandson, Abel.” John introduced the pair.

“Hi.”

“Are you a puppy too?” The boy questioned. “Derek and Malia are puppies.”

“Sort of.” She waved her hands in a so-so motion. “I can’t fully shift like my brother, so no, I guess I’m not a puppy.”

“She’s like Scott and Liam.” John said. “So is Juice. They have the eyes and the teeth.”

“Can I see your eyes?” They both flashed their eyes obediently at his excitement. “Cool.”

“They’re awesome, right?” Cora winked at the boy.

“Can I have glowly eyes?”

“No.” John shut that down quickly, causing the boys face to droop in disappointment. “Maybe when you’re older.”

“Much, much older.” Wendy added.

“Like thirty.” Juice suggested, knowing there was not a wolf bite in the kid’s future if Stiles had any say.

“Okay.” Abel deflated further only to perk up a second later while looking at Juice. “Will you play with me?”

“Play…?”

“Legos.” He gestured toward the pile stacked haphazardly in the corner. “They’re the only toys grandpa has.”

“I’m sorry. I donated all of Stiles toys when he stopped playing with them. The legos got to stay because he still plays with those when he’s bored.” John explained. “I’ll invest in more toys now that I have grandchildren.”

“So, will you play with me?”

“Sure.”

* * *

 

He should have gone home. He had every intention of doing so when he left St. Thomas. Instead, he found himself going the opposite direction, turning onto highway 580. He pulled the car off the road once he reached the memorial that now held two sets of initials.

He couldn’t remember getting out of the jeep or sitting in the dirt not far from where Jax had parked his bike just days before. Being there again, in the last place he saw his big brother wasn’t as hard as he thought it might be. It was comforting, peaceful even.

* * *

 

Abel had reverted to his subdued state as time passed, but continued playing with his blocks, as if it were the only thing keeping him together. Juice wanted to say something, to offer the boy some kind of comfort, but he didn’t know if it was his place. So, he went along with what the child asked of him, stacking up legos the way he wanted until the front door opened.

He knew it was Stiles before he looked up from the toys to see him. He knew the sound of his footsteps, the sound of the jeep door slamming. It still didn’t prepare him for the utter despair permeating off of the younger man.

“Hey.” He said dumbly, and Stiles scoffed, mouthing the words back to him.

Disbelief and shock were evident on his face. He looked wrecked, like someone had just ripped the floor out from under him. Tears spilled down his cheek as he lifted his hands in a panic, moving his fingers, counting them.

“It’s real, son.” Stiles lifted his head a fraction to look at his dad. His eyes flickered from the older man to Juice and back again, as if he wasn’t sure what he was seeing was real or if what his father was saying was true. “ _He_ is real. He’s here.”

“No. They said… Jax said…” A whine escaped his lips as he lowered his head into his hands.

This was not the welcome Juice was expecting, but maybe he should have. He cursed himself for being so stupid. It made sense for Stiles to be confused. After what the nogitsune had done in Stiles head, he challenged everything he saw. If something didn’t fit, if the numbers did not add up, then something was very wrong. Juice sitting on the floor of his father’s living room was not possible, because everything was telling him that Juice was gone.

“I’m sorry.” Juice apologized as he stood up off the floor. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, that I wasn’t here sooner. I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.” Stiles ordered breathlessly. “Stop saying you’re sorry.”

For a second he was back in prison, in the visiting area, where Jax was the one telling him to stop right before he told him it would be a quick death waiting for him. It made him worry that Stiles would send him away for his lie by omission. He knew Stiles better than that, though. Stiles was not Jax. To him, a mistake did not mean banishment or death.

“I know you’re pissed.” He had every right to be. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I am so sorry.”

The closer he got, the further he stepped in to Stiles space, the more agitated he seemed to become. He considered it a small success when Stiles didn’t take a step back, didn’t put more space between them. He lifted his head from his hands to glance upward.

Juice waited for the storm, the rage, the anger. Stiles eyes trailed up and down his body, searching for injury, or possibly a sign that he was nothing but a hallucination. His arms reached out, hesitating before they made contact, a conflicted expression on his face. Juice let him take his time, he would not force him. It took a moment, but soon he felt Stiles hands on his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“Oh…” Stiles sighed in relief, as if feeling Juice, feeling that he was alive, was proof enough that he was real.

“I should have told you when you came to see me. I’m sorry that I didn’t.” He felt worse about not finding a way to Beacon Hills sooner, for making his husband believe that he was gone. “I know you hate being lied to and that you are more than pissed off – “

“I’ll be pissed later.” He croaked and pulled Juice to him.

Juice wrapped his arms tightly around his husband. He felt himself relax as he inhaled Stiles scent, soaked in the warmth of his body. It was everything he had missed, had been hoping to find again. It was home, family, and love.

“I love you.” He whispered into Stiles ear. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you.”

* * *

 

It was pitch black when he walked on the carpet through the house. He pushed the door open in a practiced motion, confident that it would make no noise, that the hinges would not squeak. It was more than a force of habit that drew him to the room. It was a paternal need. A need to see his son was home, safely tucked away in his own bed. He had been doing it more lately, since Stiles had come home.

The last few nights he had looked in on his son, it was usually the same sight to greet him. Stiles, in his computer chair, using it as a makeshift rocking chair to help Thomas to sleep. He would doze off now and then but wake quickly. He never slept for more than an hour at a time. That first night he stood in the doorway the whole night, watching his son doze off and jerk back to consciousness like he was afraid to sleep.

This time was different. The chair was empty, rightfully so for how late it was. The bed was blessedly full for once, more than just Abel deep in slumber. Stiles was curled against Juice, his head tucked under the other man’s chin. Abel was at his uncle’s side, lying half-on half-off Stiles, snoring softly. Thomas was on Juice’s chest, Stiles and Juice’s linked hands resting on his back to keep him in place.

It was a serene picture of a happy family. It was what he would have wished for his son a few years from now. It was something Stiles should have when he was older, ready for it. When he was finished with school, had a career, and was in a stable relationship with someone he wanted to spend his life with. He supposed one out of three wasn’t bad, if he looked past the stable part.

He wondered if perhaps Gemma was right. If what Stiles shared with Juice was bound to end in tragedy. Just yesterday, he thought it already had. Now he wondered if they had found a loophole, a work around, to avoid that particular fate. If anyone could break a vicious cycle that followed his family, it would be Stiles.

* * *

 

He woke up alone in bed. Stiles side of the bed had gone cold, a sign of how long it had been since he had lain there. He took a deep breath and used his werewolf sense to locate those that were in the house. It was easier than he thought.

Thomas was asleep in the playpen on the other side of the room, where he assumed his husband had placed him when he had gotten up that morning. John was downstairs with Wendy and Abel. The water running down the hall and the distinct sound of quiet sobbing was enough to tell him where Stiles was.

He climbed out of bed, rolled his shoulders to work out the kinks in his bones, thankful that he didn’t hear chains rattle, that he wasn’t restrained, but free. He looked in on Thomas, grabbing the baby monitor from the desk, before leaving the room. He walked down the hallway and opened the bathroom door, closing it securely and turning the lock.

“My older brother died two years after I left Queens.” He said aloud as he slid down the wall until he was sitting. “We weren’t close like you and Jax. I was closer to my SAMCRO brothers than I ever was with my biological family.”

“What was his name?” Stiles voice was mumbled by the water.

“Angelo.”

“How did he die?”

“He hung himself.” He knew the parallel between his brother’s death and his first suicide attempt were not going to be lost on Stiles.

“I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t go back for the funeral.” Once he left New York, he had never gone back. “A part of me still thinks that if I do go back, he’ll still be there.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Stiles asked as Juice watched his silhouette sink to the shower floor.

“Because I know you don’t want to go today.” No one wanted to go to a funeral. “But you should.”

“Why? For closure? That’s just a stupid lie people tell themselves. Funerals don’t bring anything but more pain.” The younger man muttered. “What’s the fucking point?”

“I don’t know. It’s part of the process, I guess.” It helped people say goodbye to the ones they loved. “It forces you to see that it’s real. That the person you care about is gone.”

“I know it’s real. I saw it.” His breath hitched as he spoke. “I wasn’t supposed to. He told me not to follow him. I tried to listen, but I… I got there in time to see the impact.”

“Fuck, Stiles…” It was one thing to hear about it. It was something else entirely to see it firsthand.

“I already watched him die. I don’t need to see him be buried.”

“If you won’t do it for yourself,” Which he may regret one day. “Do it for Abel. He’s going to need his uncle. He can’t do it without you.”

“He’ll have Wendy and my dad.”

“It’s not them he needs. It’s you.”

“Are you trying to emotionally manipulate me into going to my brother’s funeral?” It sounded bad when he laid it out like that.

“Kind of.” It was a dick move, but made for the right reasons. “Is it working?”

“Kind of.” Stiles opened the shower curtain far enough for Juice to see him. “You can’t come with me today.”

“I know.”

“It sucks. I really want you to be there.” He wanted to be there for Stiles, and for the club. He knew the latter was never going to be possible again, not when he couldn’t return to Charming. “Will you watch Thomas while we’re gone?”

“You don’t want to take him?”

“He’s too young to understand what’s going on, so why subject him to it?”

“I’ll take care of him.” There was no reason to drag an infant through a car ride and funeral service if he didn’t have to. “You don’t have to worry about him.”

“Thank you.”

Stiles leaned forward and turned the knobs on the shower, stopping the flow of water. He made no move to stand or get out of the tub. He lifted an arm, grabbing the edge of his towel on the rack and yanking it down, wrapping it around his shoulders.

“We are going to have to talk at some point.” Stiles informed him. “About how you’re alive and why you couldn’t tell me.”

“Scott turned me.” That took care of the how, but he still had to answer for the why. “We didn’t know if it could save me from injuries I got in jail. I didn’t want you to think it was a guarantee of survival.”

“You are a werewolf…fuck.” His husband shook his head. “First SAMCRO and now the pack.”

“I thought you would be okay with it.” He never thought it would be a problem, after all Stiles was part of the pack.

“I am okay with it, because you’re alive.” What was the problem? “Does it mean you’re staying here as part of Scott’s pack?”

“No. I’m not staying here with Scott or being his beta.” He had already gone over this with Cora the previous day. “I’m going with you.”

“A wolf needs a pack. They don’t survive well without them.” The lone wolf dies and the pack survives.

“You will be my pack. You and the boys.” No one ever said the pack had to have other wolves in it. “It will be enough. That’s if you want me to come with you. Can I come with you?”

“Yeah.” Stiles turned his tired eyes toward him. “Yes.”

* * *

 

People walking in and out of his house wasn’t uncommon. In the last few days, Stiles friends had taken it upon themselves to come in uninvited whenever they felt like it. Take now, for example, Scott and Melissa ambling into his kitchen where he and Wendy were trying to convince Abel to eat.

“Morning.” He greeted.

“Morning.” Melissa gave him a polite smile.

“How’s Stiles?” Scott asked, looking as if he was going to bolt for the stairs to find Stiles himself.

“Not up for visitors today.” He had no idea how his son would react to Scott or any of the pack being there this morning. “He’s upstairs with Juice. I don’t know when he’s coming down.”

“Can I just talk to him for a minute?” Scott pleaded. “I just want to apologize.”

“Apologize for failing to tell Stiles that Juice was alive as soon as you could?” Scott looked away from him in shame. “Today is not the day for that.”

The wolf probably had the idea in his head that he and Stiles could get passed this lie, the betrayal, with a quick chat. Perhaps he was under the assumption that Juice’s re-emergence wiped the slate clean, made the lies not seem so bad. Any other time that might be true, but this was not the first lie the pack had told Stiles in the recent weeks.

It wasn’t going to help that Stiles was still very much in survival mode. He was locked in the mindset he adapted to when he stayed in Charming. He had spent so much time sorting through one lie after another with Gemma, Jax, and the club, all the while keeping his own straight. Stiles was going to be looking at anything and everything for the deception and true meaning behind it.

“What is that?” John asked about the garment bag in Melissa’s hand, changing the topic to something safer.

“Lydia asked us to bring it. It’s a suit for Abel.” Melissa unzipped the bag to show the designer outfit. “She didn’t know if he had one for the funeral, so she bought him one.”

“That’s very thoughtful.” He appreciated Lydia trying to show her support to Stiles without crowding him. “I’ll have Stiles call and thank her when he’s feeling up to it.”

“We are going to respect Stiles space, by leaving now.” The woman gave her son a pointed look when he seemed like he wanted to protest. “Tell him we love him and we’re here if he needs us.”

“I will.”

* * *

 

He didn’t feel the scratch of denim against his skin as he stepped into his jeans, but he could hear the sound of the zipper being pulled up. He stared at himself in the mirror while he buttoned up his black dress shirt, but could not see himself. He was aware of everything but numb to it.

“Uncle Stiles?” His nephew’s voice broke through his thoughts. “I need help.”

“With what, buddy?” He got to his knees, bringing himself to eye level with the boy.

“This thing.” He yanked on the ends of the cloth hanging around his neck.

“Your tie?” Abel nodded as Stiles sent a dubious look toward the accessory. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yes.”

“I have no idea how to tie a tie.” He wore a clip-on or had his dad to help him when occasions called for him to wear one.

“But you’re a grown up.” The boy said as if that meant Stiles must know how to do anything.

“I am barely a grown up.” He was legally an adult, he felt far from it. “And grown ups? They don’t know everything.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” Honestly, there should be some kind of guidebook you had to read when you came of age that told you all the important things you needed to know. “Just like I don’t know how to tie a tie.”

“Did my daddy know how?”

“Uh,” He couldn’t really think of a time he had ever seen his brother wear a suit, let alone a tie. “I don’t think so.”

“Grandma?”

“Probably.” Gemma probably tied Nathaniel’s tie every Sunday until he was old enough to do it himself. “Uncle Juice might know how.”

“Do you?” Abel turned to look over at Juice was typing away on Stiles computer.

“Nope, sorry. I had older sisters who liked to play dress up, even if they were only dressing me up in slightly nicer boy clothes.” He gave Abel an apologetic smile. “Marianna was very against me learning how to do it myself. I think it had more to do with her enjoyment of wrapping things around my neck, than playing dress up.”

“That’s worrying.” Stiles admitted, thinking about how Juice said his brother died.

“It was always better than when they used me as their practice dummy for make-up.” Stiles was suddenly very thankful he only had older brothers. “But, no, I don’t know how to tie that. Sorry, buddy.”

“Does grandpa know how?” Abel asked with exasperation heavy in his tone.

“Yes.” It was not unrealistic to think that his dad was the only person in the house that could properly tie a tie.

“I’ll go find him then.”

“Wait just a minute,” He put his hands on his shoulder to keep him there. “I just want to know if you are okay.”

“I am.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You understand that daddy and grandma are gone, right?” Someone had explained it to the boy, Stiles was sure of it. “And they aren’t coming back.”

“Uncle Juice came back.”

“That’s different. Um,” He faltered, racking his brain for a reasonable explanation that Abel could understand. “It was a mistake. The doctors thought the dead person was uncle Juice, but they were wrong.”

“Maybe they made a mistake with my daddy and grandma.”

“No, buddy, they didn’t.” It crushed him to have tell his nephew that. “I saw them. I made sure.”

“Daddy isn’t coming back?”

“No, he’s not coming back.” He ran his fingers through his nephew’s hair in a comforting manner. “You and your brother are going to live with me, uncle Juice, and Wendy if she wants.”

“Are you my daddy now?” Abel asked as if it was a completely normal question.

“What?” He was sure he and Juice had identical expressions of shock if the sheer quickness of the way Juice’s head shot toward them meant anything.

“When my mommy died I got a new one.” Stiles let out a noise of frustration as the boy took him through his thought process. “Wendy is my new mommy, right? Daddy said she would like it if I called her that.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Fucking, Jax. He should have known Abel was not ready for that. “And, no, I am not your dad now.”

“But daddy is gone and I get a new one, right?”

“No, Abel. That is not how it works.” Stiles grabbed two clumps of his own hair, yanking them so he could remain calm and not start yelling at his older brother’s stupidity.

“But – “

“Abel,” Juice’s voice cut off the boy’s line of questioning. “Grandpa is in his office. Why don’t you go ask him to help you with your tie?”

“Okay.” The boy agreed, moving away from Stiles and out the door.

“What the hell was that?” Juice asked when Abel was out of earshot.

“Jax told him the truth about Wendy being his birth mother.”

“Well, it seems like he understood perfectly.”

“Oh yeah.”

* * *

 

His father apparently had planned for something when they made seating arrangements for the car. Usually, his dad would insist on driving, however, this time, he had settled in the backseat with Abel, leaving the driver seat open for him and the passenger side for Wendy. He didn’t think much of it until he caught Wendy continuously stealing glances at Abel in the rearview mirror.

“Stupid question,” He started. “But, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She gave him a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“Something on your mind? Concerning the kid?”

“I want to stay in his life.” That was understandable. “I know you’re going to Oregon.”

“There’s room for you.” He wasn’t going to toss her out of the boys’ life without cause. “I’ve never taken care of the kids full time. I’m going to need help.”

“I thought you would be taking Juice up with you.”

“I am taking Juice with me. It doesn’t change the situation, though.” Truth be told, none of them were exactly trained in the parenting thing. “I mean, between the three of us, we should be able to figure how to raise two boys without completely screwing them up.”

“Yeah, cause the three of us scream well adjusted adults, fully capable of parenting two children into upstanding members of society.”

“Therapy.” His dad blurted out. “All of you. So much therapy.”

“That’s probably a good idea.” He already had plans to put Abel in grief counseling. “You don’t have to go to therapy, Wendy, but I do need you to go to keep up with your NA meetings.”

“I will.”

“You have to tell me if you start to slip.” He could not put the kids through a relapse. “If you feel like using, tell me, and I’ll get you help.”

“I will tell you. I promise.”

“I know that you love Jax, and if you need to take some time, to get your head on straight– “

“I don’t need time. I need to be with my son. He needs his mother.”

“Yeah, we’re going to have to talk about that too. We need to baby step that particular word in relation to you with him.” It was not something you could just throw at a child and expect him to understand after one conversation.

“That is something you both can discuss at a more appropriate time.” His father put in. “In a private setting that doesn’t have little ears listening.”

“Right. Right. I’m sorry.” It was a bad idea to bring it up now. “Abel, you doing okay, buddy?”

“Yes.”

“It’s okay if you’re not.” It would be perfectly reasonable for the boy to be struggling. “It’s okay to be sad and angry and confused. It is okay to miss your dad. I miss my mom all the time.”

“Do you miss my daddy?”

“Very much.”

“I miss grandma.” Abel admitted. “Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

“Even though she’s bad?”

“Yes, you are allowed to miss her.”

“Do you miss her?” It was an innocent question, one that anyone else would have answered in about half a second.

“I, uh… I… don’t…” His throat tightened as he tried to think of the correct response.

“Uncle?”

“Abel, it’s not a simple answer. I don’t um…” Wendy took his hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Yes. Yes, Abel, I do. I miss her.”

* * *

 

He had a lot of memories of Teller-Morrow and the old club house. The majority involved him trailing after Jax, Chibs, or whichever Son or old lady he had latched himself to at the moment. Others involved playing mechanic when they were short-staffed.

Piney had taught him how to ride a motorcycle in the very parking lot he was standing in now. He had threatened Clay’s life in the currently debilitated clubhouse. Opie helped him bang out dents in the jeep in the garage. He shared his first kiss with Juice on the rooftop. He smoked his first joint with Bobby in the old boxing ring that used to sit in front of the clubhouse.

“Alright, boy?” Chibs asked, coming up behind him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“No.” It would be useless to lie to the Scot and say he was fine. “Is the bike done?”

“Aye.” He handed over the keys to Jax’s Dyna. “You sure you want to ride that today?”

“Yeah.” He felt suffocated in the car, which was why he let his dad and Wendy take it when they got to TM. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to take it back to Beacon Hills when it’s over.”

“I thought might keep it. I thought you might want these too.” The older man held out two patches, not unlike the ones Jax had given to Stiles days before.

“Thanks.” He took them gently in to his hands, running his thumb over the fabric.

“Jax didn’t want the boys coming back here.” Chibs speculated. “I agree with that.”

“So do I.” After today, Abel and Thomas would not step foot in Charming ever again.

“You, on the other hand, will _always_ have a home here. You have family here.”

“I know.” He was burying his brother today, not his connection to his club brothers.

“We are going to check in on you, every so often. I will. Tig will.” Chibs told him. “If you need anything, you call. You call and I’ll come help you. No matter what. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, let’s get going. We don’t want to be late.”

* * *

 

Giving an excommunicated member a full-fledged SAMCRO funeral was a bit like giving a dirty cop a hero’s send off, gun salute and all. Club members from every charter on the west coast had traveled to Charming for the service. There was even a reaper on the headstone. It was all a bit unorthodox considering Jax had earned mayhem for killing another charters president in cold blood. It was against the rules set by the First Nine of the Sons of Anarchy, but Stiles wasn’t going to mention it.

He hadn’t said a word since arriving at the cemetery. He walked with Chibs and Tig to the plot and joined his nephew. Abel had clung to him, made Stiles pick him up, as soon as he had seen him, and refused let Stiles put him down. He had been okay, he thought, when the service had started. He even comforted Wendy, pulling her close and letting her rest her head on his shoulder as she began to weep. He was fine.

He had been absolutely fine when he saw the casket. He did not have a profound reaction when he read his brother’s name on the stone. It was not until he watched a crow fly through the sunrays, breaking through the trees, and watched it land on the stone that everything changed.

No one else seemed to notice it, but he did. Once he saw it, he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. It meant something. He knew it did. It looked at him and he looked at it, and every single emotion he had tried so hard to push away hit him like a freight train.

He was suddenly painfully aware of his surroundings, of the people around him. It was not the living, not Abel in his arms, Wendy at his side, or his father at his back. It was the dead. It was Tara’s grave a few feet away, of Opie, Piney, and Donna. Now, it was Jax he was putting in the ground with them. It just was not right.

“Breathe.” His father urged, and he hadn’t realized he had stopped, but now he couldn’t start again. “You need to breathe, Stiles.”

“I don’t remember how.”

Abel was taken from his arms by Wendy, he presumed. His father turned him away from the crow, brought him into a hug so Stiles could bury his head, hide away from it all but it didn’t help. His breaths were becoming more and more erratic, he felt on the verge of a panic attack.

“I have to go.”

“Stiles?”

“I have to go.” No one stopped him as he escaped the mass of people.

His first instinct was to go to Opie, but he was too close. Tara, Donna, Piney, they were all too close. So kept walking. He walked until he ended up at his brother’s grave. He sunk to the ground, drawing his knees to his chest as he tried to calm his breathing.

“I’m sorry, Tommy.” He apologized as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I tried to fix it. I wanted to fix it, but I couldn’t. I’m sorry. I didn’t see this coming. I didn’t see any of it coming.”

Time passed slowly as Stiles let himself cry at Thomas’s headstone. He did not feel like he could stop. He tried though. He tried to turn his focus to something else. He traced the tricycle on the grave marker with his fingertips. He repeated the dates of Tommy’s birth and death in his head to keep from thinking about their big brothers. He tried to listen to traffic from the road, but all he could hear was the funeral officiant’s words, quiet sobs, the quiet screech of metal as the casket was lowered into the ground, and the footsteps that followed soon after.

“Stiles,” His dad placed a hand on the back of his neck. “It’s over. Abel’s tired. He’s wants to go home.”

“Okay.”

“Are you coming?”

“Not yet. You can go though. I’m going to ride Jax’s bike home.” As soon as he calmed down enough to safely ride.

“Are you sure?”

“I can’t be locked in a car right now. I have a stop to make before I come home anyway.” A stop he hoped his father would not ask about, because he did not want to elaborate about it. “I’ll be okay. I’m sure the guys will follow me part of the way home.”

“I don’t think you should be alone right now.” His dad told him as a familiar bird landed on Thomas’s gravestone.

“I’m not alone. I’ll never be alone again.” His brown eyes met the crows black ones. “I’m surrounded by ghosts.”

“Stiles?” His father said worriedly.

“It’s a metaphor. I’m not losing my mind.” He wasn’t going crazy and seeing actual ghosts. “I’m okay. I promise.”

“If you are not home by the time Abel is tucked into bed for the night then I will send the pack out looking for you.” He had no doubt that was a promise and not a threat. “And I will send Juice out to question the Sons.”

“You would not.” His father wouldn’t willfully put someone in danger.

“If it meant you would come home safe, I most definitely would.”

“I’ll be home before the wolves can catch my scent.”

* * *

 

He pulled Thomas tighter to him, rubbing his back consolingly as the baby whimpered. He had become increasingly upset since the others had left and nothing Juice did seemed to soothe him. He heard once that children fed off the emotions of those around them. If you were feeling overwhelmed while trying to calm a crying baby it would do next to nothing because they could feel that too and it only upset them more.

“I’ll calm down, if you calm down.” He must have been sending off some bad vibes that Thomas was picking up, because outwardly he felt the essence of calm. “I can’t control my subconscious, kid, I’m sorry.”

The walk and bounce method he had seen Stiles and John use didn’t seem to be doing any good. He sat down in the computer chair, leaning back as far as it would allow. He lifted Thomas up, so he could rest his head in the crook of his neck. He ran a hand through the baby’s hair as he sniffled.

“You know what’s happening today, don’t you?” Could kids sense that too? “You can feel how sad your brother and uncle are. It will be that way for a while.”

Juice felt his heart clench when he thought of what Stiles and Abel were doing that day. Standing with club members from different charters, all saying farewell to their former Pres and friend. Abel was saying goodbye to his father, Stiles to his big brother.

His eyes scanned the desk, hoping to find something to concentrate on to keep his mind off Charming. He needed to think of anything but the Sons and Jax. It was a hard task, especially when his eyes caught on a photo leaning against the frame of another. It was his photo.

His picked it up with a free hand. He took in the smiles on the faces of his brothers, the innocence on his own face. Patching into the Sons of Anarchy had been the happiest day of his life, there hadn’t been one to top it yet. Even with how it all ended, he still could not to bring himself to regret it. He flipped the picture over, reading the note on the back, promises of family and having a home.

For ten years he had brothers that cared for him, that he would die for. Charming, the clubhouse, that had been his home. It wasn’t the same as the family he had been born with, the family he left behind in Queens. In SAMCRO he was wanted, needed, and loved. Then he screwed it all up and lost them all. He earned it back, just to have it ripped away from him.

Taking the bite was his only salvation. It gave him the option to live when he was supposed to die, but it came with a price. If he chose to live, he would have to leave his family behind. He could never see or speak to the Sons again. They wanted him dead so he had to be dead to them.

He didn’t lose everything, which is the only thing that lessened the blow. He wasn’t naïve enough to think the life he and Stiles would build could replace what he once had with the club. SAMCRO had not replaced the family he had grown up with, but they gave him a different kind of family. It would happen again with Stiles and the boys. It could not replace what either of them had lost, but they would still be a family.

* * *

 

The bang of doors closing echoed down the corridor. The doctor led him down to the room at the end of the hall. It was so much more foreboding then he last time he had been here.

“Has she been eating and taking her medication?”

“She has.” The doctor assured him. “She refuses to speak with honesty during her counseling sessions. She may benefit from group therapy.”

“No. She can’t be around people.” Even her nurses and orderlies had to be switched out regularly so she couldn’t get under their skin or make friends that could help her escape.

“Isolating her will only impede her treatment.”

“Yeah, because patients that have roommates are in such good health.” He looked through the small window into Peter Hale’s room as they passed it. “Peter’s did wonders for him, with the catatonia and all.”

“Peter Hale is a special case. He is a danger to society.”

“So is she. She may be a danger to herself as well, after today.”

“I’ll put her on suicide watch.” Dr. Fenrir knocked on the door briefly before opening it. “Ms. Madock, you have a visitor.”

The doctor left them alone, closing the door firmly behind him, locking Stiles in with her. Four days had already changed her. Of course, it could be the lack of leather and dark eye make-up that made him think that.

“I told him to stop calling me that.” She commented, sending a glare to the door. “I haven’t been a Madock for well over thirty years.”

“It’s just a name, Gemma.” He leaned against the wall and watched her pace around the small room.

“I can’t believe you locked me up in here.” She complained. “I can’t go anywhere. I can’t see anyone.”

“That’s the point.” She wasn’t suppose to like being there.

“You told me you weren’t coming back, that no one was going to come see me.” That was true, he had said that when he dropped her off. “But here you are.”

“Circumstances have changed.” There were things she needed to know. “After today, it will be a very long time before you see me again.”

“I don’t believe you.” She didn’t have to. “You look like shit.”

“I just came from a funeral.”

“Oh.” She shifted awkwardly on her feet, giving him a sympathetic look. “Right. You buried Juice. Sorry.”

“It wasn’t Juice. It was Jax.” He corrected.

“What? What did you say?”

“Jax is dead.”

“No.”

“He killed himself.” That was how he saw it, but he knew others had labeled it as a tragic accident.

“No, he didn’t!” Gemma yelled. “He wouldn’t do that! My son would not kill himself!”

“He killed himself the same way JT did. It was the same stretch of road. It was the same bike.” He set the patches and a newspaper article that confirmed it down on the bed.

“No!” She shouted at him.

“That is your legacy, Gem. Dead men.” Perhaps he was being cruel. He could have lied, told her another crew had taken Jax out. He didn’t have to tell her at all. He could have let her live out the rest of her life believing that her son was alive.

“You have to let me out of here.”

“No.” That was never going to happen.

“My babies need me.” Abel and Thomas were not hers. Her babies were dead.

“They think you are dead. Everyone thinks you are dead. There is a headstone with your name on it and an empty coffin. Jax made sure that everyone, including the authorities, believed that.” He eyed the strips of gauze that covered her forearms. “Gemma Teller Morrow is dead. To the club, to what’s left of your family, to Abel and Thomas.”

“Abel has lost enough.” She was right about that, but it did not change a thing. “He shouldn’t lose me too.”

“Abel is going to mourn you. He is mourning you.” He was grieving for a large portion of his family. “When he’s older, he is going to think that what he told his father is the reason you are dead. That is when I will give him my truth.”

“That you have locked in a cage like some lab rat?” She snarled.

“I’ll tell him you’re alive, if you are still alive at that point. If the silence hasn’t driven you mad. I will tell him exactly what you did to his mother.” He will tell him how and why and all the damage that followed. “I am going to bring him here to see you. You will listen to him tell you how much he hates you for what you did to his family.”

“I am his family. Abel loves me. He will understand why I did what I did.” It was a good thing she was already in a mental institution, because she was obviously delusional. “He will forgive me.”

“You betrayed him Gemma. You brutally killed his mother. You manipulated his father. You destroyed everything you touched.” Killing Tara had set off a chain reaction that led to Jax’s death. Abel would see that one day. He would see what Gemma was responsible for. “But you are right about one thing, Gem, Abel does love you. That doesn’t go away just because you hurt him.”

“I know that.”

“The hate he feels for you will win out in the end, though.”

“No, it won’t.”

“It’s in our blood, remember? Love deep. Hate deeper.” She had said it to Tara. She had said it to him. “And betrayal? Betrayal is unforgivable.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, for sticking with me until the end.  
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